


About Time

by Luluthegreatandterrible



Category: DC Animated Universe (Timmverse), DC Extended Universe RPF, DCU (Comics), Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Justice League of America (Comics)
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:15:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22616260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luluthegreatandterrible/pseuds/Luluthegreatandterrible
Summary: The Legion of Doom has enacted a plan for world domination, but more than the fate of Earth may hang in the balance. When time itself is threatened, the Doctor and Clara need to join forces with Batman and Wonder Woman along with some unlikely allies to save the future.
Relationships: Diana (Wonder Woman)/Bruce Wayne, The Doctor/River Song
Comments: 33
Kudos: 75





	1. The Museum at the End of the Universe

**Author's Note:**

> While Doctor Who is a family friendly program, some of the Wonderbat portions of this fic are adult content meaning they are explicit in nature, as per the tags. This fanfiction is meant for adult audiences.

**Alpha Centauri, 2976 AD: The Museum of Interdimensional History**

The main hallway was quiet. Barbara figured it ought to be. She and her newfound partner were sent to retrieve vital information from one of the least likely places in the universe: a museum in the future, in the heart of deep space. She had admittedly done some strange things over the years, even before her indoctrination into the Legion of Doom, but time travel with a half alien assassin was decidedly outside of her comfort zone. She chanced a glance at herself in a nearby wall of mirrors as she passed, pleased that not a patch of fur was out of place. What few guards they'd encountered tried to put up a fight, but it seemed that rent a cops were all the same no matter where you landed in time or space. A handful of sleep gas bombs made quick work of their momentary impediment, which were now sprawled haphazardly in various areas of the front foyer. Barbara eventually made her way to the center hub of the entire building. The computer within was a little known source of vast knowledge, which the younger woman hunched over the console was sifting through at a furious pace. Her blue eyes scanned the alien glyphs that raced across the glowing screen until she reached a particular section of interest, at which point her pink lips curved upward into a wicked smile. Barbara watched as her nimble fingers attached an external cable, first to the mainframe and then a small external electronic device no bigger than a tablet. Within seconds, the information was extracted and those same blue eyes were staring at her triumphantly as the device and cables were neatly stowed in the other women's knapsack. "Honestly," she commented in a British accent that fell just short of being polished, "I thought that this time we would have a bit of a challenge." Barbara sighed and crossed her arms, annoyance beginning to grow within her. She knew why this one was so valuable. In the glowing blue light of the console, even Cheetah could see the woman by her side wasn't just brilliant and dangerous; she was beautiful as well, in the unearthly way that some of the humanoid species often are. Despite being a cunning and ruthless immortal, the person to whom they had both pledged their fealty was still a man, and they just weren't that complicated. "You can have your fun some other time, Melody. Savage wants the information and a raging fire to cover our tracks. These missions are supposed to look like arson or else we're going to attract the kind of attention that even you won't enjoy." Melody only shrugged in response reaching into her small bag and retrieving more incendiary charges than should logically be able to fit inside. Cheetah reached inside her own bag, which lay at the foot of the large console and emptied the contents onto the floor as she puzzled at the strange backpack, which was likely as alien in origin as Melody. "The information on the computer," Cheetah asked, as the last of the charges were set, "is it what we've been searching for? Is it the last piece to the puzzle?" Melody beamed with pride, "Yes it is. Nothing will stand in our way once Vandal perfects the sequence." There was a long pause between them as the gravity of the situation sank in. Now that the moment when the Legion was nearly victorious had arrived, Cheetah realized that she didn't feel victorious at all. The promise of power seemed to lose a touch of its luster in lieu of what they were about to do. What she felt was doubt, and although she didn't speak a word of it, the emotion must have displayed itself across her face. Cheetah was almost impressed at how quickly Melody drew the blaster, and the shot that hit her chest threw her halfway across the room. Despite the indescribable pain that radiated from the wound, she didn't lose consciousness right away. The last thing Barbara was aware of as her vision began to fade was the younger woman standing over her, holstering her gun before punching new coordinates into the device on her wrist. "There, now. You see?" she said, blowing a sandy curl out of her eyes while smiling down, menacingly, "Vandal said you were loyal but he's rubbish at understanding women, really. I told him you didn't have the stomach for this."

××××××××××××××××××

At first, the voices were like something that reached Barbara's ears from far away. They drifted in and out like a muffled echo passing through water. Slowly, however, everything came into focus and she rather wished it hadn't. The room was still on fire, although something of their plan must have gone awry because most of it was slowly being extinguished by the water falling from the sprinklers overhead. "When you said a museum I didn't think it would be smoldering," a young woman's voice commented from across the room with a surprisingly casual tone, as if she encountered this sort of thing all the time. The man's voice was much closer, and when Barbara's eyes finally focused she realized that he was kneeling over her, "I didn't know that someone set it on fire." He was dressed like an old man in a tweed jacket and brown dress pants. The bow tie he wore was probably never in fashion during any time period. Her first impression was that he was also very young but the more she surveyed his expression as he scanned her with a strange wand (that glowed blue at the tip and made a strange whirring noise), she thought that might not be true. "Can you hear me?" he asked, his forehead creased with concern. He was English as well. So was his companion. It really was a small world in this part of space. Barbara nodded. It hurt to move in any way. "I'm the Doctor," he said in a sympathetic tone that told her she was now likely beyond the care of any doctor, "and this is Clara. Can you tell us what happened here?" It took her a moment before she was able to speak but when she did, Barbara was more than alarmed by the taste of blood in her mouth. "It was a robbery. We came to grab information from the computer but the woman I was with turned on me. She shot me...knew I wasn't going to go along with what they're doing…" The woman who had been identified as Clara sat down on the tile beside her and took her hand. She was obviously a space traveler but looked like perhaps she should have been a schoolteacher instead. Clara's eyes were kind. She leaned forward when she spoke, "What's your name?" Cheetah smiled slightly, "Barbara Minerva. They call me Cheetah. I'm part of an organization called the Legion of Doom. I always told myself that whatever we did to people was fine. Most men... closer to animals than I am. But what he's going to do isn't right. Stripping people of their free will only makes them slaves. She knew I wouldn't go along with it...so she killed me…" The way the young Doctor flinched slightly at her words confirmed the worst. To Barbara's surprise, the next emotion that passed across his face seemed to be anger, but his voice remained calm, "Who did this to you? Who is responsible?" A weak laugh escaped Barbara's lips. Perhaps there was time to set this right, after all. "The man I work for is named Vandal Savage. He is immortal and can travel through time now, thanks to his new consort: a woman who calls herself Melody. He said only that she was known to be a half alien assassin. The most dangerous woman in the galaxy he said, and he may be right. We wiped her mind when we broke her out of Stormcage, but even though she has no memory of who she was, she remembered her training. She knows how to kill...and she likes it." Barbara didn't understand if it was the gravity of her explanation or something specific she said but all the determination seemed to drain from the Doctor's posture. He looked like he was about to be sick. "Doctor?" Clara was unable to conceal the worry in her voice. He only shook his head, absentmindedly, " It isn't possible.." Barbara watched the silent conversation between Clara and the Doctor with interest, but she felt her consciousness fading and feared there would be no coming back this time. "Listen to me," she said loudly enough that both of their attention became focused on her once more, "you need to find the Justice League. Find Diana Prince. In my time she was known as the Wonder Woman. They need to stop Savage. Someone needs to…" Barbara's consciousness began to slowly recede. She was aware of the young doctor's worried expression and then she was aware of nothing. Clara felt Barbara's hand go limp in hers. This strange woman who needed their help had, in the end, been beyond saving. In her time of traveling with the Doctor, Clara experienced tragedy before, but this had an ominous feeling about it. "Is she dead?" Clara asked, already knowing the answer to her question but hoping she was wrong. The Doctor leaned back on his heels, still kneeling over Cheetah slightly and scanning her with his sonic screwdriver. "Yes," he said softly. Then, to her surprise, the Doctor rose sadly to his feet and began to walk towards the TARDIS, motioning for her to follow. "We're just going to leave her here like this?" "Yes," he replied again, well aware of the annoyance in her voice, "because we need to not make an already bad situation worse. If what she said is true…" He stood for a moment after his words trailed off not speaking, and then abruptly turned away from her and fired up the time ship's engines. The Doctor then moved to the computer, pulling up multiple screens with information in various alien languages on them. "Doctor...talk to me. Why are you so worried?" She saw him scan a particular chunk of information regarding Stormcage prison which caused his face to spark with recognition and then nearly crumble. His reaction to all of this was beginning to fill Clara with dread. "Stormcage is a prison?" The Doctor nodded, "It's one of the most heavily guarded maximum security prisons in the galaxy. Only the worst criminals are sent there and it's supposed to be impossible to escape from. Somehow Savage managed to free a prisoner with minimal effort, it would seem. I might be impressed if he wasn't completely corrupting the timeline. He's changing history in a very dangerous way, and if he isn't stopped the repercussions could be catastrophic to our reality." Clara seemed to take in all the information he'd just laid out and digested it properly. When her eyes next met him she seemed concerned but determined to meet whatever danger they faced. That was just the way she'd always been, and it never ceased to amaze him how brave ordinary people could be. "So where do we start? And who is this woman they broke out, anyway?" Clara pondered aloud. The Doctor sat uneasily in one of the swiveling chairs before the screens of the TARDIS computer. "We start by finding the Justice League, as Barbara said," he replied, much to Clara's surprise, "or at the very least, select members we can trust. Individuals who can act cooperatively and with discretion, who can assist us in carrying out what must be done to reset the timeline and save reality as we know it." Clara appraised him, head tilted to one side, hands on her hips. She was aware that he ignored her first question, but now was not the time to take issue with that. "That sounds like very specific people, Doctor. Like, you may even know them personally." He gave a half hearted shrug, "I do know them. Sort of...or at least I will, one day. It's complicated." She watched as the Doctor punched navigation coordinates into the TARDIS for their next destination. The screen glowed in front of Clara, casting shadows across the Doctor's face. The destination read: Earth- Gotham City, New Jersey- June 23rd,1999. She knew nothing for certain about the future in that moment, but there was the distinct impression that what lay ahead was going to be an entirely new type of adventure.


	2. A Long Time Coming

**CHAPTER 2 May 1st 1999: Wayne Manor, Gotham City**

It was the type of Spring evening that they wrote about in stories. The air was warm and full of the scent of flowering trees from the gardens nearby, and a soft breeze seemed to gently caress Diana's face and she stared into the distance. From the rear balcony of Wayne Manor the skyline across the river was cast in a dreamy glow. Perhaps it was all of these things that made the night so pleasant, and certainly the glass of wine in her hand didn't hurt. Glancing at the figure beside her, however, Diana couldn't help but feel that the company she was presently keeping was likely the greatest source of her enjoyment. Not that anything like this was supposed to be on her agenda.

The original plan had been to stay in a hotel during the expansion of the new Themysciran embassy building in New York, but as she was overseeing renovations that were significantly behind schedule, more long term accommodations became necessary. It was times like this that having a close friend with a mansion full of unused bedrooms just a few moments away came in handy. Diana stayed at the Manor several times over the years, and essentially had an open invitation, whenever she was in town. Truth be told, she expected to spend what spare time she had during her stay exploring the city or chatting with Alfred, as Bruce was often preoccupied with running a multinational corporation by day and spending his nights patrolling the rooftops of Gotham as Batman. What she had not expected, on the second day of her stay, was a written invitation from Bruce to join him for dinner that evening. It all felt very much like he'd asked her out on a date, the prospect of which was both exciting and confusing, much like the man on whom her thoughts currently focused. She suggested the possibility of dating several times over the course of their friendship, but was always met with some kind of excuse as to why it wasn't a good idea, at that particular time. Of course, none of those reasons were ever a lack of chemistry; even now, the unspoken attraction that they'd always had seemed to hang in the air between them. The corners of Diana's lips curled up into a soft smile at the prospect of exploring that attraction further, free of the distractions of daily life.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" The sound of Bruce's deep voice pulled Diana from her thoughts. She turned to face him fully, her smile only spreading as she stared into the depths of his blue eyes. The color reminded her of the waters she used to swim in as a child, and it occurred to her now that drowning in the depths of either had always been a very real danger. "I am," she replied, inching closer so that they were almost touching, "It's been so wonderful that I hate for it to end." She watched him contemplate this statement as he took a long, slow drink from the glass in his hand before setting it down on the edge of the wall beside them. "Why does it have to end?" For a moment she stared at him like the answer was the most obvious thing in the world before she lifted a hand and gestured towards the skyline. "Bruce, I know this city well, and I understand that Batman doesn't really have the luxury of a vacation. I promise not to take it personally if you need to leave suddenly, but I will be a bit disappointed when the evening is over. Spending this time together...it has been very enjoyable." Now, it seemed, it was his turn to smile. Not the smirk she'd seen him wear so many times but a smile that was warm and open. "I may have called in a favor," Bruce commented, trying his best to sound casual. "Nightwing is patrolling tonight. So unless it's something he can't handle, which is unlikely, I'm not planning on being anywhere but here." "You trained him well," Diana replied,"so it would appear we have time to continue our...date?" "We certainly do," he replied, seemingly acknowledging her statement. Superficially he presented as he often did: a portrait of unreadable confidence. Depending on the circumstances, Bruce used this mask to conceal any number of emotions that he was uncomfortable displaying. On most people, it was very effective. Diana knew better, however, and perhaps was one of the few that saw through his well crafted facade. Even now, Diana's meta human hearing could detect the sound of Bruce's heart rate steadily increasing the closer she got, and the thought of being able to excite him in such a way was certainly emboldening. Bruce watched as Diana set her wine glass down beside his own before taking one final step forward to close the distance between them, leaning in to gently press her lips to his. Before he could even respond to the gesture, she had already pulled back, leaving him feeling slightly dazed and more aroused than he would like to admit. Diana seemed to survey his reaction carefully before gently resting her palms against his chest and kissing him again, this time more intensely. Bruce responded without thinking, and when her lips parted for him there was no hesitation. Her hands traveled up to run through his hair as she kissed him deeply, the feeling of his tongue stroking hers as her nails gently raked his scalp sending shivers down his spine. Bruce's head swam with the unbelievable sensation of Diana's body molded to his. All of the times that he rejected her advances out of some misplaced sense of duty seemed so foolish now. He'd only hurt her and himself by denying the forces of nature that always seemed to pull them together, as if such a pairing was part of fate's design. The intense attraction for each other that they had always shared did nothing to dispel the uncharacteristically superstitious idea that began to take root in his otherwise logical mind, not long ago. How else could Bruce explain what he was feeling now? Just standing on the balcony kissing Diana was nearly enough to send Bruce into sensory overload. The pleasure of the moment didn't negate his need for oxygen, however, and he pulled back suddenly, breaking their kiss. For a second, Diana wondered if Bruce suddenly reconsidered their current situation. The evidence before her eyes seemed to contradict this, however. Even in the moonlight, she could not deny that a faint blush had spread across the fair skin of Bruce's cheeks. He was slightly breathless, and wore a soft smile that mirrored her own. And while Diana could not recall the exact moment Bruce put his arms around her, she realized that he was still holding her. Diana wasn't sure she'd ever experienced a perfect moment, but this certainly came close. She was torn between wanting to remain as they were and the growing feeling inside that stated, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted so much more of him in every way. Diana watched the wheels turning as Bruce seemed to carefully consider what to do next. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but before a single word was uttered, she heard a faint rumble in the distance; less than a moment passed before the unseen storm was upon them, and the sky erupted.

Diana almost burst out laughing at the ridiculous timing of the downpour. The deluge of Spring rain was surprisingly warm, and not entirely unpleasant, although they soon found themselves soaked to the skin. Bruce broke into a jog with Diana close behind him as they hurried through the open balcony doors into the sitting room. "That was random," Diana noted with a small chuckle, glancing at the growing wet spot beneath them on what was likely an antique area rug. "Gods, Alfred is not going to be happy if we make a mess in here." Bruce shrugged, a smirk forming on his handsome face as he pushed a dark lock of damp hair back from his forehead, "No, very likely not. I can build a fire if you'd like to dry off a bit. The fireplace is a little out of use but it works well enough. Or we can just go upstairs and get out of these wet clothes…" His words trailed off as he ran his gaze over Diana's well toned curves, and how the drenched fabric of the dress she wore now clung to them. Bruce thought, perhaps, the action had gone unnoticed but when he met her eyes, the seductive smile she wore said otherwise. "Getting out of these clothes sounds like a wonderful idea. Lead the way."

Bruce nodded and led her through the doorway out into the hallway, then up the main staircase to the upper floor. The silence between them was tinged with an anticipatory excitement that Bruce hadn't felt in a very long time. After what seemed like an eternity, they reached his bedroom door. As Bruce closed the door behind them it took every ounce of his considerable self control not to pin Diana to the door and ravage her senseless. He wanted this night to be memorable for both of them in the best possible way. In the amber glow of the bedside lamp, Diana cast the form of the goddess that she truly was. Bruce had always been struck by her beauty, but it wasn't just that. She was intelligent. Powerful but compassionate. Diana sought truth and was always honest about what she hoped their relationship could become, yet patient enough to give him the space to figure out what he wanted, as well. Instead of pushing him when he wasn't ready to be more than friends, she simply left that door open when she returned to her life in Paris. They spoke often, of course, but in her absence he'd missed her. It shocked him how much, in fact. The realization of this led him to question his own feelings on the matter considerably. There had always been an attraction but this was more than that. Unfortunately, talking about that sort of thing was definitely one of the few shortcomings Bruce would admit to. So while waiting for fate to intervene wasn't exactly Bruce's style, her recent call that she might need to stay with him for some time made him wonder if it had, regardless. After all, she was here with him now.

"Are you okay?" Diana's words broke him from his distracted thoughts. In the periphery, Bruce was aware of the sound of the rain now beating against the windows. "I'm great," he replied with a smile that warmed Diana deeply, "I'm...all yours." She moved slowly, closing the distance between them yet again and gently taking him by both hands. "That is wonderful to hear," Diana noted, a playful tone to her voice as she placed his hands upon her waist, "now, where were we before nature decided we needed some privacy?" Bruce laughed softly as he pulled Diana's body closer, wrapping his arms tightly around her, "I think it was something like this, only less damp…" Diana nodded to acknowledge this as she laced her arms behind his neck. He heard her hum a thoughtful sound low in her throat, "Did you have a plan to get us out of these wet clothes, or do you use that line on every woman who gets caught in the rain with you?" Bruce was about to craft a clever retort when the feeling of Diana absently running her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck sent chills running down his spine in a way that was unrelated to the garments they both still wore. Diana watched with delight as Bruce's eyes momentarily fell closed at her touch. She took the opportunity to lean forward and brush her lips against his once again. Bruce responded by kissing her more deeply, one of his hands moving to the back of her head while the other remained on her waist. The sensation of his tongue stroking her own and his body pressed against her made Diana flush with a surprising and unfamiliar heat. She'd had lovers in the past and but nothing held a candle to the intensity of the connection between them. By the way that Bruce's body was responding Diana knew that he felt it too. The only thing that mattered now was that neither of them were willing to deny it anymore.

Diana was aware of Bruce backing her slowly towards the bed as his hands released her to fumble with the small buttons of his dress shirt. Within moments the shirt was on the floor and his pants followed. Diana's dress soon joined the trail of clothing, as did their undergarments until they finally both tumbled somewhat breathlessly onto the soft sheets. Bruce's lips traveled to her neck and then began to move lower, teasing one of her breasts with his tongue before taking it into his mouth, gently sucking until Diana could barely process the sensations coursing through her body. He teased her other breast as his free hand roamed over her body, exploring her curves. She felt herself becoming lightheaded, the need to make love to him growing to become an ache inside of her that could no longer be ignored. The taste of Diana's skin and the feeling of her pressed against him filled Bruce's senses. Few things had ever felt as good as this and he didn't want the experience to end. The sound of Diana's soft moans filled his ears as he stroked her between her thighs. She was wet and swollen with desire and Bruce felt himself becoming uncomfortably aroused at the realization of how much she wanted him. It was becoming evident, in fact, that neither of them could likely wait much longer. Without another thought he shifted on the bed to hover over Diana and then settled his weight on top of her body. She was so beautiful as smiled up at him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes full of so much love that it made his chest tight just to gaze upon her. It felt like a gift that he was unworthy of, but wanted nonetheless. Diana reached up to cup Bruce's jaw in her hands, pulling him in for a searing kiss. He brushed his arousal against her most sensitive area, and then with one swift thrust of his hips, Bruce was buried deep inside of her where she wanted him most. Ripples of ecstasy coursed through Diana's body as he began to move his hips, slowly at first but with a gradually increasing tempo that soon had her body desperately reaching for its release. She felt everything at once. Bruce filling her completely as his weight pressed her into the mattress, holding her in an intimate embrace. The feeling of his back under her fingertips, his muscle tense with the need to succumb to his own pleasure. Her heart was beating hard as a sensation coursed through her that felt like flying. Diana came in a heated rush, her legs shaking and her back arching off the bed as she cried out his name. Bruce soon followed her over the edge, his body shuddering in her arms with the force of his release, the sounds of his moans partially muffled as he pressed his forehead into the pillow beside her head. After a few moments he rolled them onto their side, bodies intertwined in a tangle of limbs as heavy breathing began to slow. "I still wish we did that sooner," Diana noted with a smile, "but I must say it was certainly worth the wait." Bruce smiled softly and Diana was surprised at how much emotion seemed to play across his face as he studied her expression. "I'm glad to hear it. Only, after tonight… I don't know. I might not let you leave." She laughed, a light melodious sound that reminded Bruce of the wind passing through chimes. "I'm very busy these days," Diana replied playfully, "so you'd have to make it worth my while. What do you have to entice me to stay in Gotham?" Bruce's smile faded somewhat and Diana watched his expression become serious, "Like I said earlier, I'm all yours. If you'll still have me." The playful banter and flirting that so often tinged their conversations when they were alone seemed out of place, now. Despite his cautious, closed off demeanor and the anxiety all of this clearly caused him, Bruce had laid himself bare in front of her, in more ways than one. It was overwhelming and wonderful to think that after everything they'd been through together he finally wanted to take their relationship further.

Diana was smiling but the silence between them was beginning to make Bruce nervous. Perhaps he'd misread the entire situation and she no longer wanted anything serious with him. He had so many chances to be with her in the past and the thought that he had thrown that opportunity away was beginning to make Bruce feel sick inside. Then, Bruce felt Diana place the palm of her hand in the center of his chest, directly over his heart. A familiar gesture that meant so much to both of them. He was reminded of a night long ago and a mission that, while it was considered a success by the League, had not been completed without collateral damage. Innocent people were killed and Bruce felt responsible for not anticipating all of the potential risks. When he'd been congratulated for a job well done, he could have handled it better. Although he told everyone afterwards that he wanted to be left alone, only Diana saw how heavily everything weighed on him and followed him back to Gotham. She found him on a rooftop in the cold, surveying the dark landscape. At first she didn't speak. Her demeanor was that of quiet compassion as she waited for him to be ready to tell her what was wrong. "I shouldn't have said those things to them. I lost control," Bruce finally admitted, turning to face her. "It's frustrating. How can they celebrate like everything is fine?" Diana only smiled sadly, a grim wisdom in her eyes, "They are...hopeful. The world is once again safe, and they choose to focus on that because while they fight for what is right, they are not warriors. You and I know that victory often comes at a price. It doesn't diminish the good that is done, but it does add a somber tone to things." Bruce said nothing but watched as she moved closer, her palm coming to rest atop the bat symbol on his suit that protected his heart. To her visible surprise, he laughed, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of his realization. "It's ironic, really. The people who accused me of getting angry and overreacting to all of this tonight are the same members that have called me cold hearted, in the past," he noted with a smirk, " and...well, you can't exactly be both, can you?" She shook her head no. "Well, what do you think, princess?" Bruce asked, glancing down at her hand, "Is my heart as cold as they say?" When he looked back up at her face, she was close enough to kiss. He should have kissed her so many times since that night. God only knew how much he wanted to. Instead, he gazed into the depths of her brown eyes that always seemed to understand, and explored the sadness that lay there. "I don't think that your heart is cold, Bruce," Diana said softly. "I think, perhaps, it is broken." Bruce was completely unprepared for such a statement or the impact that it had on him. Part of him wanted to run from far away and yet, in the moment, nothing could have pulled him from her. So they stood together in silence on a rooftop in Gotham with the sounds of the city below, her hand never leaving its place on his heart. Such a small thing and yet it felt like a way to say, without words, that she was there and everything would be alright. It was the first time she ever made the gesture, but it wouldn't be the last. The League got in many tight spots in the years to come. There were bad days and fights that Bruce thought they might not walk away from. In the aftermath they would find each other bloodied and the touch of her hand was a reminder that they were still standing. Now, laying in her arms and feeling so unsure about the future, her touch told him everything he needed to know.

Diana's expression was serene as she stared into his eyes, and Bruce nearly forgot to breathe as he waited for her response. "I have loved you for a very long time, Bruce. I'm not sure what brought about your change of heart but if this is what you truly want, I couldn't imagine a better reason to stay in Gotham than to be with you." For a second the words didn't sink in, and then they did with considerable force. Despite everything Bruce had ever said or done that might have hurt her, despite logic and reason, Diana never gave up on him when so many others would have. The only thing more surprising to Bruce than her profession of love was how happy it made him to be the object of her affection. She could have given her heart to anyone, and yet she chose him, a mortal man of no significant power. It was so much more than he deserved. Bruce released a deep, contemplative sigh. "I'm not so sure that it was a change of heart so much as a change of mind," he admitted reluctantly. "The mission comes first. I told myself that, since I was old enough to understand what I was meant to do. I told myself that what I wanted had to take a backseat to the greater good. But...it turns out that I must be selfish because I got to a point where I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep walking away from you when being with you is one of the only things I've ever really wanted for myself." Diana was still smiling but now there were also tears in her eyes, "That's maybe the most I've ever heard you say at once. I'm glad you did." Bruce placed his hand over hers. "Don't get used to it," he replied with a smirk, "I'm still the same person I was before. But I just thought, after everything, you deserve the truth. You deserve...well, a better man than me." She swatted at his shoulder playfully, "Oh stop that." To her surprise, Bruce laughed but also gripped the spot, "Ouch." For a second Diana felt bad for hitting him a bit too hard but couldn't help the fit of giggles that overcame her. He was scowling at her now, which somehow only seemed to make it worse, and she rolled onto her back, covering her mouth as if that would somehow contain the laughter. "I am curious as to why accidentally hurting me is so funny?" Bruce inquired with a raised eyebrow. "Because," Diana replied, when she finally regained the ability to speak without laughter, "Batman said 'Ouch'. I've seen you take hits that should've killed a normal person, but one little slap…you must realize that it's a bit ridiculous. " Bruce turned to face her, propping his head up on his elbow to gaze down at her, slightly. "Godlike strength, remember? It just slipped out…" He lay there, in silence as her laughter subsided. The expression he wore, which previously bordered on annoyance, now presented as contemplative. Diana could practically see the wheels turning behind his eyes. She wondered if his mind ever stopped to rest and simply enjoy the moment. "What?" she asked, as he continued to stare at her. "I was thinking that you're the only one that can get away with laughing at my expense without me getting angry," he replied, "because...I love you." He opened his mouth briefly, as if there was more that he wanted to say and then closed it. Those words alone carried more weight, Diana thought, than anything ever could. She didn't need some grand exposition of love, just the knowledge that somehow (against all conceivable odds) his heart was hers.

Bruce saw the momentary surprise that flashed behind Diana's eyes. Her previous grin faded into something softer. She said nothing in response and simply opened her arms to him. In the past such a gesture from a woman would have given him pause, but this was not just any scenario or any woman. Diana was sent to the world of man as it's savior and while that seemed like a tall order for anyone to accomplish, she had certainly saved him in her own way. Bruce didn't want to imagine how different his life would be without her love and friendship, but he suspected that it may have taken a much darker turn. So he did not hesitate to lay down beside her and be enveloped in her embrace. Diana's skin was warm against his, the sound of her heartbeat so strong in Bruce's ears as his head rested upon her breast. She was unbelievably strong. So much stronger than him and more than capable of protecting herself in the insanity of the life they would inevitably share, in the future. That was good, he thought, as the steady rhythm slowly lulled him to sleep.

In the morning, Bruce woke to the sun stinging his eyes and the arm of the woman he loved draped across his waist as she lightly snored beside him. It was a beautiful day. Diana would make arrangements in the days to come, to gradually move her life to Gotham. Even with Bruce's assistance it would take time, but after how long she'd waited for him to come around, he found that patience was the least he could offer, under the circumstances. Life went back to normal, or as normal as it ever was. Much of their lives were occupied by daily obligations such as Diana's work on the embassy, Bruce's day job and nighttime activities and sometimes either or both of them assisting the League. But when the day ended, the ability to crawl into bed beside her was one of the best feelings that Bruce had ever known. As the weeks stretched on, it almost seemed to Bruce like a sense of peace had come into his life that felt long overdue. It was something that he secretly wished would last forever, although his rational mind told him that nothing truly did. And yet it was becoming increasingly easier to ignore that logical inner voice. Even the bad nights, and there were inevitably bad nights patrolling Gotham, it didn't seem so bleak. Sometimes Diana was waiting for him and sometimes she wasn't, but he could come home to her, regardless. The important thing was that they were finally together and for the first time in a lifetime Bruce was truly happy. So it seemed like this quiet period of their lives might, in fact, last for some time. That is, until the morning when a loud whirring noise woke Bruce from a dead sleep. He followed it cautiously to his bedroom window to see that its source was a blue police call box parked in the patch of garden below. Before he could even wake Diana or go downstairs to investigate the strange phenomenon, that little voice of logic told him that the brief peace he'd known was likely over. Sometimes Bruce really hated being right.


	3. An Unexpected House Call

**The T.A.R.D.I.S : Somewhere in the time vortex**

Clara could feel the haste like never before as the ship sped through the void towards its destination. "I'm confused about something, Doctor. You said that this Wonder Woman is an Amazon, but they're just a story. I used to do a section on them when I taught Greek mythology." The Doctor only chuckled, softly, "They've said as much about me, over the years, but the Amazons are very real and nothing to trifle with. At the height of their influence they didn't just inspire mankind to greatness. They defended the people of the ancient world from countless dangers. The stories tend to lump them into the same category as the muses, but the Amazons were so much more. I would argue that they were probably some of the finest warriors of all time. And then they disappeared from the world behind a curtain of mist, eventually becoming the stuff of myth and legend." Clara stood, arms crossed, leaning against the console for balance as the Doctor began to shift toggles and pull levers beside her. By the sounds that the engine was making, they would soon be landing. "If mankind was so important to them, why did they leave? I reckon mankind needs all the help it can get." "It was not by choice," The Doctor noted with particular emphasis. "They were forced into exile by Zeus himself after their queen was deemed guilty by association in Hades' attempt to overthrow Olympus. With the exception of their princess who was sent to your world as a champion, no Amazon has set foot outside the borders of their land in a thousand years, and no man dare enter the island under pain of death. Which is a shame, honestly, since it really is a paradise." The T.A.R.D.I.S touched down gently, engine whirring as it came to rest in the courtyard of a very old garden full of flowering trees. Not far away, Clara saw through the screen that displayed their surroundings, stood a stately manor Manor house. "I think the destination is wrong, Doctor. This looks like we're back in England." "We're not," he stated gravely, his expression suddenly becoming more serious, "and in a few moments some people are going to investigate our arrival. I need you to follow my lead because they will likely appear unassuming but underestimating them would be a mistake. Anyone who comes to greet us now is dangerous, and they are far more so if they perceive us to be a threat." She nodded in acknowledgement but couldn't help but wonder what dangers existed in such a peaceful place. It was less than ten minutes before her question was properly answered.

The first to approach the vessel was a dark haired man wearing clothes that appeared to be expensive and tailored for his well built frame. He did not appear alarmed at the appearance of a strange craft in the garden, and his cold blue eyes seemed to survey the situation with an almost unnerving calm. Very shortly afterwards, a woman appeared by his side. To say that this woman was breathtaking would be a gross understatement. She was tall and shapely in a sleeveless navy dress that fluttered slightly in the breeze. Her forehead was creased as she focused upon the mysterious addition to the landscape. Clara watched this woman cross her muscular arms across her chest and sigh deeply. She exchanged a glance with the man beside her and then, as if some wealth of information was silently exchanged between them, the man turned back towards the T.A.R.D.I.S and knocked on the door. The Doctor took a step backward from the display screen. "Right," he said, cracking his neck and straightening his bow tie, "That would be our cue." Clara gestured towards the T.A.R.D.I.S doors, "After you." Without another word, the Doctor strode towards the exit, his steps resolute. Clara followed closely behind. With a snap of the Doctor's fingers the doors opened before them and they walked out into the bright sunlight. 

Her eyes hadn't even adjusted when a deep voice addressed them. "Can we help you with something?" the gentleman asked. The Doctor smiled in response. Clara always admired the confidence her friend exuded, even in the face of uncertainty. "I'm The Doctor and this is Clara." The dark haired man crossed his arms and smirked, but it didn't feel friendly, "You're trespassing, so we're going to need a better explanation than that." The Doctor did not appear phased by this. He expected a certain degree of resistance. "Alright. Clara and I have traveled a long way through time and space to find both of you because we do need your help. Right now your world... _ every  _ world...is in danger. I already know who you are and who you  _ also are.  _ I need you to understand that in your future we are friends." At these words Clara thought she saw the woman beside him cast a glance his way and then fix her gaze on The Doctor. Her expression was far warmer and more open than her companion, but full of suspicion. When she spoke her voice was almost melodious, but possessed a hard edge to it that reminded Clara of The Doctor's cautionary words, earlier. "I'm not sure who you think we are or how you believe you know us," she remarked, "but I would certainly feel more assured of your sincerity if we could verify your claims. Is there any way  _ you  _ know that we can do so." The Doctor cocked his head to the side and chuckled softly. He held out an open hand to her, palm facing up. "Oh, Diana...Wisdom of Athena. I expected no less. Do you have the lasso or is it inside?" Diana's expression seemed to fill with something like relief. She reached inside the folds of her dress and produced a coiled golden rope. In the shade of the fruit trees it glowed with an ethereal light. She placed one side of the loop into The Doctor's open hand, never releasing her grip on the other end. Clara watched as The Doctor closed his fingers around it. "I am Diana, daughter of Hippolyta who is Queen of the Amazons, and guardian of the Lasso of Hestia. If you speak the truth, Doctor, you have nothing to fear. And if you are our friend...then you already know this. Now I must ask, who are you and what are your intentions coming here today?" 

"My name is The Doctor," he stated, and the lasso glowed more brightly in his hand. "I'm from the planet Gallifrey. I've lived for over a thousand years and I travel through time and space in the ship behind me with my companion. We are friends, as I said, or at least we will be, one day. I met you in my past, your future, while the League was assisting U.N.I.T. to repel an alien invasion just east of Carthage ten years from now." Clara watched the lasso become briefly brighter, and then return to what she assumed was its usual glow. "He speaks the truth, Bruce," Diana called over her shoulder to him. The man she identified as 'Bruce' seemed nonplussed by the information, but nodded in acknowledgement. When he next spoke, his words were directed at The Doctor, "You need our help, but surely anyone who routinely works with U.N.I.T. to fight off an alien invasion would be more than capable of handling most threats." "Oh I am," The Doctor replied without missing a beat, "and this world has been under my protection since before you were in diapers. No this is bigger than my sense of importance or responsibility. Vandal Savage has brainwashed a very dangerous woman into helping him take this world for his own, but in doing so they are rewriting fixed points in history. They may be irreparably damaging the timeline as we speak and I only hope we can stop them and undo what has been done. The fabric of reality itself is at risk." Bruce seemed to absorb the words as his gaze moved from The Doctor's face to the lasso that glowed brightly with the certainty of the man's words. The threat of which he spoke was nothing to be taken lightly. "We're familiar with Savage," Bruce replied, his expression now grim. "The League has stopped him a number of times and after that situation in Eastern Europe I hoped we'd seen the last of him. The woman who he's working with...the one he's brainwashed. Who is she?" The Doctor paused, then smiled sadly, "Her name is Melody Pond, but most people know her by the name of River Song. The woman he's taken is my wife."


	4. A Meeting of the Minds

**June 23rd 1999: Wayne Manor, Gotham City**

By the time everyone made their way inside there was already tea service waiting in the sitting room. The Doctor seemed pleased but not surprised. He recounted the tale of their voyage to the museum at the end of the universe, how it had been unexpectedly set ablaze and their chance encounter with Cheetah in the last moments of her life. The story of Savage's plans for world domination were laid before them through the dying woman's words, and as The Doctor quietly drank his tea he couldn't help but wonder if he was missing something. Instead of his story rallying his future friends to arms, they sat somberly across from him on a plush sofa. Diana wore a dazed expression and held her cup and saucer as if she was unaware of their presence. The only thing she seemed to react to, in fact, was Bruce. He was sitting directly beside Diana with his arm around her and when he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, she flashed him a weak smile before turning to address their guests. "I'm sorry, Doctor. Before the curse turned her into Cheetah and she joined up with The Legion of Doom, Barbara was my friend. I always hoped that she would eventually choose the right path but not like this. Is she truly gone?" Clara nodded. "Yes," she replied, her voice full of empathy. "I'm sorry. We had no idea you were friends." Diana shrugged, smiling sadly at the younger woman, "Most people don't. Anyway, it was long ago."

There was a pause in the conversation before Bruce broke the silence. "Not to change the subject but I have a concern about something you said earlier." The Doctor laughed softly, "I should think so." "Obviously," Bruce replied, the annoyance now audible in his voice, "but you said Cheetah named Savage as her leader. Alexander Luthor is the head of The Legion of Doom, not Savage. If Savage is about to stage some kind of hostile takeover, Luthor might be the man to approach. I'm not keen on making a trip to Lexcorp, but it's a decent lead and we may be able to stop them before this goes any further." The Doctor smiled genuinely this time, and his whole face seemed to light up with excitement for the first time in days. "There! You see? Exactly why I knew we should come here today. Well that and the other thing...I knew that we needed to find both of you but the T.A.R.D.I.S. picked this date because there was a spike in time energy in Gotham very recently. Within the past few days, in fact. This was the closest she could come to the burst because whatever caused it is feeding into the paradox, so we're on the right track." "Is there any way to display the coordinates of the disruption?" Bruce asked, his eyes lighting up in a way that could only mean the pieces of the puzzle were beginning to come together for him. "We can overlay the coordinates with a map of Gotham. If we cross reference the location with the criminal activity that we had to deal with this week…" "We may be able to figure out why they were here and what they were after," Diana finished the thought almost effortlessly. The Doctor laid his cup and saucer down on the table before standing and clapping his hands together enthusiastically. "Right! Meet you down in the cave? I think the T.A.R.D.I.S. and the bat computer need to have a chat."

*******************************

Bruce's gaze traveled from the blue police box in one corner of his cave to his computer console. The two were now connected by a large electrical cable that pulsed with strange light. "I thought an advanced species of aliens would have a more elegant means of delivering information than...an extension cord…" The Doctor sat up from the area of the floor near the keyboard, where he had just been working. "I'm not just transferring information to your computer. I'm utilizing the T.A.R.D.I.S to boost the signal. Initially I was concerned that I would arrive far too early in your timeline but it seems like Clara and I are exactly where we need to be," The Doctor stated, matter of factly, gesturing towards the computer screen. It was now displaying a map not just of Gotham City, but the surrounding geographical areas. A small section of Gotham now glowed with a pale blue light. Across the river in Manhattan, there was a much more intense glow. "What do the patches of light signify?" Bruce asked. "Aahh," The Doctor replied with a smile,"I'm glad you asked! Artron energy is read by most instruments as a bluish light but what it actually is? Ambient radiation. Traces of it can be found on time travelers specifically because it only exists in the time vortex. The stronger the signal, the more Artron energy."

Bruce crossed the room to stand beside The Doctor. He leaned forward to punch a command into the keyboard and the display screen split before zooming into the two sections of the map to isolate the coordinates of the Artron energy. "The fainter signal is coming from part of Arkham Asylum," he informed The Doctor. "We just broke up a small riot there two nights ago. Nothing egregious compared to what we usually deal with when someone decides to start trouble." For a moment The Doctor said nothing. The faint blue glow of the screen cast shadows across his face. Bruce had initially thought him a young man but in this light he looked much older. Worry does that, sometimes, he supposed. "The signal coming from Arkham is the one we tracked here, to your time. I'm sure of it, " The Doctor said, almost to himself, "so there must be something you're missing. Something that isn't obvious. Try to think, Bruce. I know Gotham is...an interesting place.. but was there anything out of the ordinary? Anything at all that happened while you were helping quell the disturbance?"

It was Diana's voice that rang out from the other corner of the cave. She'd been demonstrating some self defense techniques to Clara while Bruce brainstormed with The Doctor, but she had also been listening intently to the conversation. "The Hatter," she said over her shoulder to Bruce, almost offhandedly, "was missing from his quarters for nearly half an hour, and then reappeared as if he was never gone. We thought he attempted an escape in the commotion and then thought better of it." "Unless someone did help him escape, for a time," Bruce stated, as the realization hit him with full force, "and then returned him so we would never know he was complicit in a larger plan. Jervis Tetch is known by the name Mad Hatter due to his fondness for Lewis Carroll's works, but he's in a hospital for the criminally insane because of his penchant for murder and mind control." "That sounds like someone needs to pay old Jervis a visit," Clara chimed in, resolutely. This time, they all exchanged a glance. A plan was clearly forming. "I agree," Bruce replied with a smirk, "and he's a very disturbed individual. I think it's time he got a new doctor."


	5. Uncomfortable Truths

**June 24th, 1999: The Bat Cave**

The Doctor heard the sound of footsteps approach through the open doors of the T.A.R.D.I.S. but this was hardly a surprise. His craft was still parked in the cavernous space, far below Wayne Manor and when last he and Clara conversed with their new found travel companions, the intent to mobilize had been clear. He looked over his shoulder to see Diana in her Amazon attire, and then returned his gaze to the console. "Wow," he noted with a hint of amazement in his voice, "the finest armor ever made. That is something I have not seen in some time." There was a pause before she spoke, "When did you have the occasion to see it? When we first met?" The Doctor softly chuckled, "Yes and no… I met your mother and sisters shortly after you were born. The T.A.R.D.I.S randomly ended up on Themyscira just in time for me to assist them with a minotaur. Nasty things, minotaurs. In any case, we captured the beast and returned it to where it came from with no casualties, so I like to think that I am considered a friend of the Amazons...despite their not being overly fond of men…" Diana came to stand beside him, her voice full of regret, "I never knew that. I suspect that I had much more to learn from my mother before I left Themyscira to become the champion of the Amazons, but I fear that now I may not have the opportunity. When last we spoke she was...unhappy...with some of my choices. As you said, the Amazons are not overly fond of men on the island and as I broke that law to help my people, I have been banished from my home." The Doctor sighed, "I am sorry." Diana only smiled sadly, "Thank you Doctor. Best not to dwell on that now, though. We should get ready and I know Bruce has misgivings about the plan."

The voice that echoed through the T.A.R.D.I.S was deeper than before, courtesy of the voice modulator in his bat suit, "I do. You and Clara going in completely unassisted wasn't what I meant. Arkham is a high security facility. You won't even get in without the proper credentials." The Doctor turned to face him and lightly tapped the breast picked of his tweed suit jacket with the palm of his hand, "I'm not going in without credentials. Psychic paper. They'll see whatever I want them to see with a bit of suggestion. You'll both be in the T.A.R.D.I.S waiting for us and tracking our progress. Clara and I will be wearing the League communicators you gave us so we can keep in touch. I thought that was what we discussed earlier." Bruce sighed deeply. The Doctor wasn't wrong. Initially, that had been the plan, but soon the conversation turned back to the energy signature that brought The Doctor to their time. That led them to Arkham Asylum. The second one appeared after he landed in the garden and it was much stronger, suggesting the presence of someone who had prolonged exposure to the time vortex. It might be River or even Vandal Savage that awaited them, at that location, which certainly gave Bruce pause. Further investigation led to an intriguing find: the building was a high rise full of luxury apartments, owned by Lex Luthor, and the penthouse at the very top was one of his private residences. It was ironic, since Bruce mentioned the unpleasant possibility of visiting LexCorp, earlier. Perhaps a much less hazardous location for a confrontation was presenting itself, and as it was (likely not coincidentally) the location of the second energy signal, as well, failing to investigate it was not an option.

"Fine," Bruce conceded, reluctantly, "I will admit that I trust your capabilities in navigating Arkham without our direct support. If you are telling us that there's a strategy and you will maintain communication, I can accept that. But once night falls, we move to Luthor's residence and when we do, you should remain in the T.A.R.D.I.S, at all costs. Clara, as well." Diana moved to stand beside Bruce. "I agree," she added. "Luthor is...familiar with us. He won't immediately react to our presence with aggression. If things go badly, we will contact you through the communicators for extraction. Can the T.A.R.D.I.S materialize anywhere?" The Doctor nodded in agreement although he appeared somewhat concerned regarding the turn of events. "It's a sound idea. From what you say, Luthor may respond better without our presence," he noted, offhandedly, "but you're not taking River into account. You expect me to stay behind, even if she's there?" To The Doctor's surprise, Bruce sounded almost sad, "I expect you to stay behind especially if she's there."

Clara laughed. It was a mirthless sound that drew Bruce's attention immediately. "That doesn't sound very much like you trust us," Clara's voice failed to indicate even a hint of intimidation at confronting the notoriously scary Batman. She was certain that somewhere behind his cowl, he was giving her a dirty look. "I trust the lasso," he retorted with annoyance, directed at both Clara and The Doctor, "and since The Doctor's words were truthful about your intentions, then I trust both of you quite a bit more than is logical for me to trust two people who I only met today. You've told me we're friends, in the future, Doctor. If I'm to believe you know me well enough, then you also know my trust is hard won, so what I'm asking of you on this mission today needs to be good enough. Because right now I barely know what kind of man you are, but in many ways you remind me of myself. So I ask myself what I would do under these circumstances. I would gladly sacrifice myself for the greater good but someone who I love the way I'm sure you love River...well, that's more complicated. I want you to stay behind so you don't put yourself in that situation."

Now it was The Doctor's turn to be annoyed, "You have no idea what the stakes are for me, so let me be crystal clear with you. River isn't just my wife. She's the child of my closest friends and our destinies have been entwined even before she was born. Can you imagine? Human parents that bore a Timelord through exposure to the time vortex. She was unique. My enemies stole her when she was a baby and trained her to be a killer, all to get to me. I was able to help her rediscover who she really was and perhaps that's why she loves me, but it doesn't matter. I was there for her as a child and I was there the day she died." The shock that registered on Diana's face seemed to take some of the fire out of The Doctor's words, but he continued speaking, nonetheless, "Yes, our story won't end happily. Our timelines run in opposite directions, you see. The first time I met her was the day she died saving my life and the lives of so many others. It would be so much easier to let the paradox remain as it is. River might hate me or not know me at all, but she would be alive. Correcting the timeline condemns her to death. So it's not about what I want. It's about time. All of time is threatened if we don't set this right."

Bruce and Diana were both silent as Doctor took a step forward, in Bruce's direction, until they were almost nose to nose. "Because we are friends, in my mind, I will let that go," The Doctor declared, sounding unmistakably weary, "but please don't assume that you understand my priorities as well as your own. I know it was well intentioned. I know that. But stopping Savage and whoever is working with him is the only course of action, no matter what. I only ask that you capture River alive so I can correct the damage that's been done to her mind and set her back on the correct timeline. She is important. Events that will occur in her future are fixed points in history, and the consequences of altering so many fixed points is catastrophic for reality."

Bruce wondered briefly if the caveat regarding bringing River in alive was more for Diana's benefit than his own, but the tone of what was spoken filled him with dread. The League failed to stop Savage in the past. He was perceived to no longer be a threat and in the interim he amassed a dangerous amount of power. Failing again could mean the end of everything. If things started to go south they might be forced to call in reinforcements, despite The Doctor only requesting help from Diana and himself. "Okay," Bruce affirmed, projecting more confidence than he actually felt at that moment, "we bring River in alive and stop Savage and his associates. No matter what."

The Doctor visibly became more animated at those words, relief plastered across his features. "Right, then!" he exclaimed, smiling and good- naturedly clapping Bruce on the shoulder. His smile quickly turned into a wince, "Ow. I forgot how hard the suit was. Where were we? Off to Arkham in a bit. Clara, to the wardrobe please? Business attire would be best." Clara smiled over her shoulder as she headed down to don her disguise, "I'm getting a pantsuit this time. Something tells me I might be doing more running than usual." The Doctor laughed softly to himself, and then turned towards Bruce and Diana, "She's probably not wrong. Oh, by the way, before we get going you might want to pack some bags. You know, anything you usually travel with: clothes, a toothbrush, weapons… I usually don't remember to tell people before they travel with me but you'd be surprised at the problems it causes not having your things with you if we need to take a hop through time."

As everyone headed their separate ways within the T.A.R.D.I.S or the Manor to prepare for their voyage, Diana could not deny the nagging feeling of dread that seemed to be growing in the back of her mind. Perhaps it was their last conversation with The Doctor...the despair in his voice as he spoke about being so resigned to his fate and the fate of the one he loved. Bruce seemed to see some of himself in The Doctor, and maybe that was true, but that didn't make her feel any better about the situation. Bruce often accused her of being a hopeless optimist, and while she often found the bright side easily, it was hard to locate, at the moment. The truth was, her dread was most likely worry masquerading as something more dire. Every instinct told her that The Doctor was also a warrior and had gone up against men like Savage before, but who could truly know if they were all prepared for what lay ahead? She knew only one thing for certain: that their world and reality as they knew it must be protected, whatever the cost. Diana zipped up the duffel bag that she'd just finished packing and slung it over one shoulder before grabbing the rest of her weapons and heading back to the T.A.R.D.I.S. As her steps drew nearer, Diana silently prayed to her gods for a swift and righteous victory against their foes. She only hoped The Doctor knew what the price of that victory might be.


	6. Mystery at the Asylum

**June 24th, 1999: Arkham Asylum**

The screeching sound of metal on metal filled Clara's ears as the gate slowly slid open. It was jarring, to say the least, and spoke volumes about the facility's state of disrepair. Funding mental health treatment for the maximum security patients within seemed of little concern to anyone in power, and likely contributed to the frequent riots and escape attempts that Batman reported. All in all, it certainly explained a lot about Gotham, in general. 

She followed the guard down a long dingy hallway, The Doctor by her side. As usual, psychic paper worked like a charm. People usually saw what they wanted to see anyway and that only expedited the path to their goal. Clara wondered if, under these circumstances, that was really a good thing. Everything about Arkham looked dangerous and unstable, in a way that had her questioning whether they should have heeded all the warnings they'd been given earlier. While she was very familiar with on- the- job hazards (it was par for the course when you traveled with The Doctor), this felt different somehow. It wasn't fear...more like some dormant instinct deep down in her stomach that should not be ignored, and she felt grateful for the communicator sitting somewhat uncomfortably in her ear. That might be their lifeline, should things go awry.

The scene that lay ahead of them indicated that, perhaps, something already had. Just outside the door that appeared to be their destination, several men were arguing. One wore the suit of an administrator, and he was addressing a very penitent looking orderly who stammered apologies at his superior. Clara only heard snippets of the conversation spoken in hushed tones, as they drew closer. "...so sorry, sir...no idea what happened...the door was locked…" The men stopped talking, immediately, as their party approached.

"Can I help you?" asked the man in the suit curtly, with a raised eyebrow. "I'm sorry to interrupt," their guard articulated clearly and without hesitation, "but the state sent a specialized doctor to work with Mr. Tetch." The color drained from the administrator's face. "I'm sorry, what?" he replied in a voice that demonstrated none of the authority he exuded, just moments earlier. The Doctor smiled politely, extending his hand to the startled man, "Dr. Smith and Ms. Oswald from the State mental health board. We've been sent to work with Jervis Tetch and consult in his care." The man in the suit numbly shook The Doctor's hand. It took a few minutes for him to formulate a response. "Nice to meet you Dr. Smith," he replied, although he did not sound remotely pleased to see them. "Please, call me John. And you are?" The man in the suit exhaled slowly, "Harold Silver. I'm the Supervisor for the maximum security wing of Arkham. I wasn't aware that the state was interested in our facility or Mr. Tetch...or that you would be coming today." Clara stepped forward and smiled at Mr. Silver without warmth, "Mr. Tetch is a person of interest. Besides, as I'm sure you're aware, we don't usually announce surprise visits. Nor do we need to." Mr. Silver shook his head in agreement, "Of course…of course. Perhaps I can take you on a tour of the facility?" The Doctor glanced at the door beside them. The name of the very man they'd come to see was staring back at him from a placard on the peeling paint. "That would be our pleasure," The Doctor noted with a cool civility that seemed to put Mr. Silver at ease, "and I would be very interested in learning about your treatment methods for some of the more… unique… patients here, just as soon as we speak with Mr. Tetch." Mr. Silver uncomfortably straightened his tie, his gaze traveling towards the entrance of Jervis Tetch's room. The motion was subtle, but did not escape The Doctor's attention. "Is he in his room?" he asked, gesturing towards the nearby door. Mr. Silver opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say a word, the orderly beside him chimed into the conversation. "No, sir," the young man interjected, "we don't know where he is." The Doctor and Clara shared a sideways glance before focusing on Mr. Silver. The man looked red beneath the collar at the orderly's words, and by the way he was shooting daggers at the younger man, Clara suspected he wouldn't mind throttling the poor man. "What's your name, son?" The Doctor asked the orderly, who couldn't have been more than twenty. "Daryl, sir," he responded politely, "and as I was telling Mr. Silver when you both came down the hall, I don't know how this happened. I made the rounds as usual and he was just here a little while ago. Nothing out of the ordinary. Tetch didn't leave his room. You can check the cameras. I know it sounds insane, even for this place, but I'm telling you Dr. Smith….he just vanished." To the surprise of both men, The Doctor stepped forward and gently placed his hand on Daryl's shoulder. His expression was kind as he leaned into the young man's personal space, "I believe you, Daryl. Furthermore, I don't think that this was the fault of anyone here, and we will make sure that everyone back in our home office knows that. In the meantime, I would very much like to have a look in Mr. Tetch's room. He has historically been involved in some very unusual criminal activity. There may be something among his effects that would be useful for the authorities to help determine his whereabouts and get him safely back in your care, where he belongs." The Doctor's words admonishing the Arkham staff of culpability in Jervis Tetch's disappearance seemed to fill Mr. Silver with relief. He certainly looked less apt to do harm to any of his staff, and was patting his pockets for his keys to open the door to Tetch's room. "Of course," Silver agreed with a surprisingly agreeable tone, "we are happy to cooperate in whatever way. The keys are in my office. I'm just going to go get them. The guard will remain with you for your safety until I return. Daryl, please continue your rounds. It's almost time to dispense afternoon medications." Before they could say a word, one way or the other, Silver disappeared down the hallway and around a corner. "Thanks for showing up when you did," Daryl noted with a glance over his shoulder in their direction as he headed off to resume his work. "You are very welcome," The Doctor replied, and they both watched as he disappeared from view. While she could hardly predict future events, Clara was fairly certain the young man would have been out of a job, had they not arrived at such a fortuitous time. She couldn't help but think that even if no other good came from their presence in the dismal hospital, maybe they managed to help someone, after all.

It didn't take long for Mr. Silver to return with the keys and open the door to Tetch's room. "You know, Mr. Silver," Clara noted offhandedly, "if you're still up for giving a tour, I would be interested. That way, I have something to put in my report aside from this unpleasant business and Dr. Smith is able to gather some evidence to show all respective parties how no one  _ here  _ is at fault for Mr. Tetch's absence, as it were. We could help each other." Mr. Silver lingered in the doorway as The Doctor crossed the threshold into the patient's living quarters and began to look around. He seemed to be considering his options. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he smiled genuinely at Clara, "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Ms. Oswald. If you would please follow me, I would be happy to show you what Arkham has to offer." Clara gestured for him to begin walking and when he did, followed him down the hallway towards the back of the maximum security patient wing. Based on the sounds that only grew louder upon their approach, she was certain that this would be an experience to remember.

*****************************************

Patience was a virtue that Diana typically possessed in abundance, but their new travel companions entered Arkham some time ago, and her uneasiness had not yet dissipated. Not that Bruce was helping matters. He barely uttered a word since being left behind in the T.A.R.D.I.S, and while Diana could never accuse him of being chatty, this was a bit ridiculous. She suspected that his silence was either due to him being deep in thought, a product of worry, or both reasons. In any case, he appeared as relieved as she felt to hear The Doctor's voice come across the private channel Bruce set on their shared communicators.

"Can you hear me?" The Doctor asked, in a low voice. "Loud and clear," Bruce replied. "Did you run into any problems with security?" They both heard the faint whirring of his sonic screwdriver before The Doctor spoke, "No problem there, but something unusual happened after we arrived. I can't explain now, but I have no doubt Tetch is part of all of this, as you suspected. We should be back to the T.A.R.D.I.S soon." "Good," Bruce replied. "I want to look at any data you gather from Arkham before we head to the city." To his surprise, his statement was met with only silence. The line was dead, and not because of some mishap. In the course of their conversation, The Doctor simply made an unannounced exit. Bruce turned towards Diana and frowned, deeply, "I was talking to him and he just vanished." Diana only chuckled softly to herself, "Bruce, you do that to people all the time." He turned away from her gaze and acted as if he was reading something off the T.A.R.D.I.S monitor, but as it was in an alien language, she had her doubts.

"I don't like it," he replied, matter of factly; Diana swore she could practically hear him sulking. Although Bruce was notorious for his disappearing act among friends and foes alike, he clearly did not enjoy being on the receiving end of it. When she spoke again, Diana's words were careful and measured, "I suspect Jim Gordon never cared for it much, either, but he knew that it was not a sign of disrespect. He always understood that you valued his opinions and his friendship. Perhaps it is the same with The Doctor." He didn't respond to her statement. 

When he turned to face her, Bruce realized that Diana was standing much closer to him now, almost close enough to touch. Under other circumstances that would have been a very attractive prospect. The current situation wasn't sitting right with him, however. There was a hostile presence somewhere in his city. The one man who might help him apprehend this person wasn't keeping him fully in the loop, and while he believed The Doctor was sincere earlier regarding his allegiances, Bruce could still foresee scenarios in which things ended badly. The truth that Bruce dare not speak was that he was genuinely worried. Their world hung in the balance and failure was not an option. As they stood in silence, Bruce realized that for the first time in his life, he had an awful lot to lose.

"I sincerely hope that they return with more information," he stated, matter of factly, at Diana who was considering him with her arms crossed in front of her. "We still need to pay Luthor a visit and I have no intention of walking into an ambush. You know that we need to be prepared for anything." She nodded and tucked a dark lock of hair that had fallen across her face behind one ear, "We will formulate a plan of action but we can't do that without knowing all of the potential details. Savage is one piece of the puzzle and now it seems Tetch is another. The unknown element is The Doctor's wife, and she may prove to be a dangerous variable." 

The Doctor's wife. Truth be told, they knew very little about River Song, but before they faced her or any of her presently known associates, a more thorough picture needed to be painted. What little knowledge they had could be pieced together from The Doctor's own words during the conversations they'd had, thus far. She was a human who became part alien through accidental exposure to the time vortex in utero. Whether that genetic factor was accompanied by extraordinary powers was another question. Some alien races like Kryptonians, Tamaranians and even Martians possessed unique abilities. Time Lords, however, were something of a mystery. 

"What do you know of the Time Lords?" Bruce asked. Diana had lived for thousands of years and had countless experiences with races that were only now becoming known to the modern world. "Not much," she replied, much to his surprise. "although it is funny...earlier today, The Doctor made mention of assisting the Amazons in capturing a minotaur that was unleashed on Themyscira. My mother never told me any such story in my childhood, but I believe his account to be true. If he fought alongside the Amazons that makes him skilled in battle and strategy." Bruce glanced around the room that they currently stood in. The Doctor might be very old, in fact, although as he was a time traveler it was difficult to say just how old. "The technology of this ship is unlike anything that I've ever seen," Bruce commented, in response to her deduction, " so they are also an advanced species in that regard." Diana shook her head and let out an exasperated sigh, "This may all be a moot point. River is not from The Doctor's home world, don't forget. She is, as he said, 'unique' and that may mean any of our assumptions are inaccurate at best. I know it is a sensitive subject but I believe the best course of action may be to simply ask him what we need to know." Bruce frowned at her words. The green glow of the T.A.R.D.I.S computer screen cast shadows across his already cowled face. Having a potentially emotional conversation with someone they barely knew would not be an easy feat for Bruce, but Diana was confident that he would work with her as he always had to gain the information they sought. She noticed in her periphery that the characters on the screen were no longer in an alien language and couldn't help but smile to herself. Clara mentioned earlier that, after some time, the T.A.R.D.I.S often had the effect on its passengers to help them understand and speak all languages. Perhaps, the timing of this fortuitous alteration was a sign that everything was finally beginning clear.


	7. A Fixed Point

**June 24th, 1999: The Abandoned Patch of Forest Adjacent to Arkham Asylum**

The dry grass crunched beneath their feet as The Doctor and Clara casually strayed from the road outside the gates into a small thicket of trees. It was not long before they came across the T.A.R.D.I.S, nestled between the trunks of several blue spruce as if it had always been there. "Doctor, can I ask you a question before we head inside?" He'd been reaching for the door handle when she spoke, but his hand paused mid-air and fell to his side. "Of course," The Doctor replied, turning to face her. Clara realized it had only been a day since everything began and yet it seemed like a lifetime ago that they'd had a moment alone to talk. Not to mention the thing that needed to be addressed was not an easy topic to broach, so it was likely best to try and get to the truth and be done with it. "Why didn't you tell me that Melody was River's alias back at the museum?" Clara asked, expecting surprise but finding only his usual serene expression staring back at her. "Did you think I would be jealous or question your objectivity the way Bruce did back in the cave?" The Doctor smiled sadly and shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe. Well...yes, actually. In hindsight, I realize I should have been more honest with you. This whole thing has me a bit off my game, as they say. They do say that, don't they? I find it hard to keep up with the modern slang." Clara laughed softly, "They do. Don't change the subject. We've been in worse jams than this. What is it that has you off balance?" The Doctor seemed to choose his words carefully, his expression tense. It was hard to put into perspective to one so young who, while she'd experienced her share of sadness, had not yet known the despair of failing to save the ones dearest to you. "I've lived for over a thousand years, Clara. Not as long as Diana, by far, but still… I think of that old song. What was it? 'To All the Girls I've Loved Before'? There have been a few, in that time, spread across the galaxy. I've outlived them all, just like I'll outlive you." To this, Clara only smirked back at him, "Not me, Doctor. I'm not going. I'm gonna live forever. You just watch." The Doctor wasn't amused by this, however. "I'm being absolutely serious. I knew, from the first day I met River, that she was doomed and also that one day in my future she would be my wife. You see, she knew my name, that day in the library...the day she died. My  _ true  _ name. The only person I could ever tell that to is a spouse. Time Lord rules, and all that. I had to go on afterwards with that knowledge, all the while knowing how it must end. And now she's back, and she shouldn't be. I should look at this as a gift. The days we ought to have left together are so few. But it's all wrong. Time is wrong, I can feel it. History is slowly sliding off its axis, and unless we put this right...anything could happen now." Clara nodded slowly. Her friend was clearly more upset by their current situation than he'd let on to anyone, and who could blame him. "I know," she replied, her voice full of empathy as she gestured towards the T.A.R.D.I.S, "but you can't keep secrets. Not from me, and frankly not from them, either. I don't fully fathom the scope of your friendship, in the future. I understand why we're all working together, but they are not your companions, Doctor. Diana is a _ literal _ goddess and after talking to some of the locals it's obvious that Batman is no joke, either. You can't keep them in the dark like you try to do with me sometimes. If we're going to do this, everyone needs to be on the same page from now on." The Doctor seemed amused, "Anything I keep to myself is for your safety. You know that." "Doctor," she reiterated in a tone that bordered on scolding, "please, as your friend, I am asking you to promise me.  _ No more secrets. _ " 

In the warm glow of the afternoon light, Clara felt almost silly standing in a little patch of woods, so close to the sounds of the city nearby and arguing with a man from the stars over the fate of the universe as if it was the most mundane thing. Sometimes Clara thought she knew The Doctor better than anyone, but other times it felt like she was talking to a stranger. He didn't tell her about River when it mattered most, and while she could academically understand the logic behind his reasons for playing that information so close to the vest, it still didn't sit well. She trusted The Doctor with her life but she was beginning to wonder if Bruce's misgivings about the situation earlier were well earned. Ultimately, only time would tell.

The Doctor stared back at her, calm and contemplative, his mouth set in a thin line. "Alright," he acquiesced, eventually, "no more secrets. I promise." She smiled at him, genuinely, for the first time that day as she reached up and gently let her hair down from the constricting updo that (in her opinion) helped put the final touch on their temporarily assumed identities. "Thank you," the words were spoken more softly than her previous utterances as she motioned towards the nearby doors to their craft. "We should probably bring the others up to speed." The Doctor nodded in agreement and opened the T.A.R.D.I.S doors. Clara followed him inside, massaging her sore scalp with her fingertips as she walked, and wondering internally when she would ever learn from her mistakes. She was eager to decipher the information they'd gathered, and wondered what their new traveling companions ascertained in their absence. Judging by the way Bruce and Diana had been reluctant to stay behind while they investigated Arkham, she assumed they would both be trying to decipher the finer details of the case and perhaps even explore the T.A.R.D.I.S computer. The universal translator had likey kicked in, and it would have been an excellent opportunity for the couple to gather information. Instead, they found Bruce sitting in a nearby hair with Diana perched comfortably in his lap. His cowl was off and lay on the floor beside her sword and shield. Diana's head rested atop his, one arm lazily draped around his shoulders while the other rested atop one of Bruce's, both of which were wound around her waist. They projected an air of complete contentment, and barely stirred at The Doctor and Clara's approach, although Clara was certain that at least Diana was well aware of their proximity. There was something about the pose that was so natural yet intimate that made Clara feel as if they were somehow intruding on something they shouldn't be present for. This was ridiculous, of course, but she felt it, just the same. She couldn't help but wonder if this was what real love looked like between two people. If it was, the concept was more alien to her than her traveling companion. The realization was accompanied by a degree of sadness best dwelt upon at a later time. 

The Doctor seemed to pay them no mind, and strolled casually over to the main console. Once there he plugged his sonic screwdriver into a nearby port and hit a few buttons, displaying a series of scientific readings on the screen above. From his pocket he withdrew a small tattered journal and waved it in the air for all to see. "Your theory was correct," he called in Bruce and Diana's direction, causing both of them to relinquish their comfortable position and travel towards where he and Clara were now both standing. "Someone has been visiting Mr. Tetch's room at Arkham. The energy signature is highest in and around his room. Everywhere else on the grounds is minimal. And they've been there more than once, by the look of it. Every time someone pops in it leaves a residue of sorts. As you can see on screen the traces are in various stages of decay." Diana's eyes were fixed on the screen above. The data was sound. "And what of Tetch?" she asked. "Was he at all cooperative?" To this, The Doctor simply shrugged, "We didn't have the pleasure, as a matter of fact. When we arrived we were informed that he was, yet again, inexplicably missing from his room. This time he did not reappear."

To The Doctor's surprise, neither of the heroes appeared shocked by the revelation. Quite to the contrary, in fact. "It was only a matter of time before they came for him again," Bruce noted, offhandedly. Diana nodded in agreement, "Especially if he is integral to their plans, somehow. Doctor, were you able to learn anything of interest while you were at Arkham?" The Doctor handed her the small book in his hand. "The staff didn't have much to say about Tetch aside from what you likely already know," Clara chimed in as Diana cracked the spine of the mad man's journal and began to peruse its contents. "The patients in the recreation area were another story entirely. Tetch is bad at keeping friends, it would seem. One bloke...who tried to convince me he was really a doctor there, if you can believe that...is particularly angry at him. Claims Tetch stole something he invented and used it for his own gain." Clara saw the spark of recognition in Bruce's eyes at her words. The information she discovered, it would appear, was of interest after all. Before she could utter another word, however, Diana glanced up from the journal. "He wasn't lying," she stated, with a severity in her tone that gave Clara a chill. Diana turned towards Bruce and handed him the journal. "It was Crane. Most of this is Tetch's ravings, but there are formulas in here for some kind of drug I've never seen before. The underlying chemistry looks a lot like Scarecrow's fear toxin, but then it starts to resemble something more like a mixture of hallucinogens and surgical anesthesia." Bruce took the journal, pouring over the pages for a few moments before looking up at The Doctor, "Can The T.A.R.D.I.S synthesize an antidote for this? Because I strongly suspect that this may be a big piece of the puzzle for whatever Savage is planning. If he were to unleash this on a population it could drive people insane or even kill them, in a strong enough dose. We need a contingency plan for the worst case scenario. With how little Savage regards human life, I don't think that is an unrealistic possibility." The Doctor drummed his fingers on the T.A.R.D.I.S console as he gathered his thoughts. "Okay," he responded after a moment, "The T.A.R.D.I.S will have no difficulty with that, but it may take some time. A more sensible plan is still to find River and the Legion of Doom  _ before _ they unleash the drug on an unsuspecting society. Then, we can return River to her senses, stop whoever is trying to carry out this plan, restore the timeline, and drop Savage off somewhere he can't do any more damage. I personally know of a lovely planet of highly sentient space poodles that would be an excellent spot for him to be exiled for all time, but I don't have my heart set on that particular spot. Any questions?" 

It was Bruce that broke the silence that briefly followed The Doctor's monolog. "If we could prevent a catastrophic event, that's certainly preferable," he commented with a smirk, "and I wouldn't know about what strange planet is the best spot for exiting an immortal warlord. That's more along the lines of your expertise, Doctor. I do know that following the evidence is always the best plan, and that evidence still says that Luthor is our next best lead to finding Savage and his associates." The Doctor retrieved his screwdriver from the computer port and stuffed it back in his inside pocket, "Then that's our next stop. Once night falls, we'll pay him a visit. I know you prefer the cover of darkness." "I do, in fact," Bruce replied. "I also prefer not walking into a situation blindly, which is why I need you to tell us everything there is to know about River Song."

***********************************

Alexander Luthor was a very knowledgeable man. To come as far as he had, in life, one needed to be. If you were to ask him where his expertise was focused, he might tell you (with very little modesty) that he always had an aptitude for science and business, and that he understood people especially well. This, of course, was a profound oversimplification of the truth. Since a very young age, the thing that made Lex a brilliant mind was his ability to look at the world and see how things worked in a way that ordinary people couldn't comprehend. As a child, this meant a good deal of disillusionment at everyone and everything around him. As an adult, it helped him to rise from rather humble beginnings to become a major player. It wouldn't have been an understatement to say that he was one of the most wealthy and powerful people in the world. Powerful people, however, accumulate enemies, so Lex (being the perceptive sort) always had one eye scanning the periphery. Situational awareness, he often told his security team, will save your life. Sometimes, he even had the sense to know when things were off before they did. Tonight was one of those times.

It was late when he came down to the kitchen of his penthouse for a drink and was met with the sensation that he was not alone. He didn't call anyone for assistance, of course. What was the point? This wasn't the first time Lex had such visitors over the years. You couldn't spit in this part of the northeast without hitting a masked vigilante, and very few of them meant any harm. The way they popped in unexpectedly was more annoying than anything else. Now was not the time for visitors, especially since he had company upstairs and wasn't exactly dressed. He turned the cap slowly on the cold bottle of San Pellegrino and set it down on the counter of the marble kitchen island in front of him. It gave a pleasant hiss as the carbonation settled. "I know you're there so you might as well come out and say your piece," he projected casually into the darkness of his living room before taking a crisp sip of mineral water. 

For a moment nothing happened and Lex began to wonder if his instincts weren't what they used to be. Then, Wonder Woman stepped out of the shadows. With the moonlight glinting off her armor, she was truly a vision. Under other circumstances, Lex knew that he may have attempted to charm the Amazon, but her current posture warned such actions would be ill advised. "Alexander Luthor, there is a very important matter that we must discuss." Lex exhaled slowly and set the bottle in his hand down on the counter. "There's no need for such formality," he stated matter of factly, stepping out from behind the kitchen island so she could see he was wearing only a black silk robe, "seeing as how we're not doing business and you've broken into my home. Well, one of them, anyway. Not that I mind, really. I've never had such a radiant intruder before. It's refreshing." She only seemed to consider him silently with a raised eyebrow. "Fine," he conceded, walking past her to sit on a nearby sofa, "I understand. Fate of the universe and all that, although...this isn't really your thing, is it? Which begs the question,  _ where is he _ ?" To Lex's surprise, Wonder Woman's only response was to smile and glance behind him. Not the answer he was hoping for. 

The knowledge that Batman was lurking in his apartment for the duration of their conversation without his awareness didn't exactly fill Lex with warm fuzzy feelings. However, it was a far more pleasant sensation than knowing he was looming behind you. Lex didn't give either of them the satisfaction of a reaction as he leaned back to rest his head on the soft leather and glanced upward to meet the bat's cowled gaze. "Now, I'm intrigued. This has to be something pretty dire for both of you to show up here." Batman's gaze narrowed as he moved from behind the couch to stand beside Wonder Woman. "We believe that a plan may be in motion within the Legion and without your knowledge," Batman stated in a voice that held none of its usual intimidation, "and although we've been on opposite sides in the past, you've also aided the League." 

Lex smiled wolfishly, "I've helped when it was in my interest to do so. But I can't help you now." Wonder Woman opened her mouth to argue the point. Her expression changed to shock and anger when he held up his hand to silence her. "Please, don't try to appeal to my better nature. I'm not being difficult. I literally  _ can't  _ help you. I have no idea what's going on within the Legion these days." Batman chuckled softly, "Do you actually expect us to believe that line you've been feeding the press about leaving a life of crime behind you?" To this, Lex only shrugged, "I don't really care whether or not you believe me. I already had this conversation with the Kryptonian. I'm not a fool. I spent so much time focused on ridding the world of Superman and for what? Things were actually worse when he was gone. I will admit, I didn't foresee how that would play out, but it's true. It made me...reassess some of my previous associations. There are better ways to amass money and power than to surround yourself with mutants and meta- humans with delusions of grandeur." 

Batman and Wonder Woman shared a sideways glance as if they were wordlessly conferring on whether or not to believe him. Finally it was Wonder Woman who spoke, "What can you tell us of Vandal Savage?" Lex shrugged, "Not much, really _.  _ It's true we traveled in the same circles. The story he likes to tell people about being an immortal warlord may or may not be true, but he's certainly hard to kill. I've seen people try. Don't get me wrong, there were things I almost admired about the man, but at the end of the day, we weren't exactly friends." He was up from the couch now and headed towards the kitchen for a bottle of wine and two glasses. He'd left someone waiting upstairs for a long time now, and it was best to bring a peace offering when he returned to the bedroom, shortly. "And why is that?" Batman asked as Lex hunted for a corkscrew in the kitchen drawer. He shot Batman an incredulous look, "Seriously? Maybe because if he wasn't really immortal then he was certifiable? And if the tall tales he told were true...then he was a literal Nazi in the third reich, and I found that a bit distasteful. Say what you will about me or the things I've done, but I draw a line at genocide. A low bar, perhaps, but I'm not going to throw my lot in with someone that profits from widespread human suffering." "And if he's trying to do something like that again?" Wonder Woman retorted. "You could help us to locate him. We could put an end to what he's planning before it begins." 

Lex nodded in acknowledgement of her statement as he twisted the corkscrew into the bottle. With one swift pull, the cork was freed with a subtle popping sound. No time to let it breathe, under the circumstances. "Thanks, but I'm going to pass on this one. Don't get me wrong, I actually wish you both luck if that's the case, but like I said earlier, I can't help you." Batman took a step towards him, attempting to intimidate him with the usual bat glare, "We could get the information from you another way, if need be." Lex only stared back at him. The entire situation was starting to get on his nerves. "Yes," he agreed, "you could try a show of force, which would be futile. She could tie me up with the lasso which, I'm not going to lie, is definitely something I have fantasized about...but short of arousing me, won't be very productive, and certainly won't get you the information you're looking for." Neither of the heroes reacted strongly at his words, although Lex wondered if he imagined how Batman's glare seemed to intensify at the mention of his lewd use for the lasso of truth. He gathered up the open bottle of wine and two glasses, and began to walk towards the nearby stairs. "It's certainly been interesting, but I'm sure you two can let yourselves out," he called over his shoulder, before disappearing up the stairs. Lex didn't wait for their response, a smile on his lips as he left them unsatisfied in the darkness of the parlor.

***********************

There was nowhere to go but up. Usually, this was a metaphor, but under the circumstances, it was quite literal. Bruce scanned the room in which they stood, still in Luthor's residence, and the evidence was undeniable: River had visited very recently and there was a possibility she was still somewhere in the building. Further scans by the device that he and The Doctor rigged earlier (which allowed him to search for the artron energy signature, much like the sonic screwdriver could) indicated a stronger concentration above their location. "She's either on the roof," Diana interjected, "or...Hera, I don't even want to consider it." The way Bruce tilted his head at her words strongly suggested he was raising an eyebrow under his cowl. "He's entertaining a woman up there," she finally said. Bruce laughed, "I assumed so. I'm not unfamiliar with that kind of entertaining, as you know." Her eyes were drawn upward towards the ceiling again at the sound of a female voice drifting through the floorboards. "I do know," was Diana's only reply, her voice tinged with irritation, "and I'm sure that it has occurred to you  _ who  _ he may be entertaining." Bruce sighed, "It has. Do you think he was lying earlier?" Diana considered his words for a moment, her hands on her hips. "No. I think he was being truthful. Luthor is a self serving creature but even he is capable of realizing that no one profits from a world out of balance. I don't need the lasso to see that." "Then, if he isn't involved with Savage's plan…" Diana didn't want to finish his thought but they both knew where that thread led. Either controlling Luthor was part of the plan or it was something more sinister. Regardless, the very real possibility remained that for once in his paranoid life the man may have let his guard down and gotten himself in more trouble than he realized. "Damnit," Bruce finally said. "He doesn't know it's her. We need to get up to the roof."

He was moving before she could even respond but even if Bruce could disappear in a flash, Diana was far quicker. The rooftop was not what she expected, but perhaps from someone like Luthor, she should have. It was clearly the private oasis of someone who spared no expense, hidden away in the heart of a bustling city. Under the dark sky, natural foliage gently swayed in the summer breeze. It might have been relaxing if Diana wasn't waiting for some kind of attack. However, as Bruce appeared beside her looking slightly annoyed at being beaten to their destination, it became clear that no one was waiting for them, save the figure that swam lazy circles in the Olympic size swimming pool nearby, clad in nothing but moonlight. They barely made a sound at their approach, but she clearly heard them, righting herself in the water and fixing a gaze upon them that held no trace of fear. If anything, it reminded Diana of the way a lion tracked the movement of prey that came upon their path in error. She bobbed in the water for a moment like an indecisive mermaid before swimming to the water's edge and climbing nimbly onto dry land. Her expression was unreadable as she walked to a nearby chair to retrieve a robe that closely resembled Luthor's, wrapping it around herself and tying the belt snugly around her small frame. Diana realized that she was petite compared to herself and also quite lovely, which likely beguiled many men (Luthor included). That didn't mean underestimating her would be any less of a mistake. 

"I recognize you," she said without any trace of emotion, "both of you. Honestly I expected...well, I don't know what I expected. It was only a matter of time before you came, I suppose." She sat down on the poolside chair and pulled a small hair brush from a beauty bag beside her as if their appearance was the most commonplace thing in the world. "Melody…" Diana began but was interrupted by the sound of cold laughter. "My God, I have come to hate the sound of that name," the fair haired woman finished brushing her hair and shook the remaining water from her curls with long manicured fingers. "It spent too much time on Savage's lips for my liking before I broke his hold. The conditioning was effective even before Tetch made the drug. It's all very Manchurian Candidate, but this isn't my first time at the rodeo, as they say." Bruce didn't relax his posture at her admission. His usual caution was certainly warranted, under the circumstances, "You know who you are and you don't speak fondly of Savage. Why are you here, River?" 

River smiled up at Bruce and crossed her legs modestly as if she had not been bare in his presence just moments earlier. "I've been  _ here  _ for some time. Vandal wanted me to lay low after what happened at the museum. He also wanted someone to get close to Lex to make sure he didn't suspect what we were doing and become involved in the Legion again. If he did, I was supposed to eliminate him. But then...you know, it's funny but I grew quite fond of him. Not just the lifestyle, which is fantastic, but him. And then...I began to remember things. I remember everything now. Everything I am and everything I've done. Horrible things, all for that basted, and I can't take any of it back." Diana frowned. This simplified some things and definitively complicated others. "You need to come with us, River. You aren't responsible for what you did under Savage's control. The Doctor…" To Diana's surprise, anger flashed across River's expression, So much so that she stopped speaking abruptly. River stood, grabbing her small pouch and strode to the stone wall nearby. She reached into the bag and began to lay out items on the wall's ledge as if she was about to fix her makeup. " _ The Doctor  _ never came for me," River emphasized, pointing a tube of lipstick at Diana. "My darling husband travels the galaxy without a care in the world and I don't ask him to stay. But I was under Savage's control for a good while and The Doctor had no clue. I did things that I  _ never _ would have done if I was in my right mind. You can't exactly give consent when you're under mind control, if you get my drift. The Doctor promised to always be there for me and the only time I ever really needed him because I couldn't protect myself...He wasn't. He can go to hell. And Savage? As soon as I can get my hands on the way to kill him you can be bloody well sure he will be seeing me again." Bruce nearly flinched at the realization that the woman who The Doctor described as being so strong and resourceful had likely spent months being violated by Savage. "He can't be killed," he interjected in as emotionless a voice as he could muster, "but if you return with us, The Doctor can restore the timeline before any more damage is done." She turned her back on both of them and began applying makeup. "I'm not going anywhere," she replied in a voice that left no room for argument. "I won't sit in Stormcage any longer for The Doctor's sake. I have a good thing going here, and I have every intention of carrying out my revenge when the opportunity comes along." Diana frowned. Although they seemed to connect with River better than she had hoped, the conversation was getting them nowhere. River was easily as hard headed as she or Bruce and when she vowed revenge, Diana sincerely believed that the woman would go down fighting. It was a quality that was certainly worthy of respect. 

"River," Diana's voice was full of empathy, as River turned her back to them and began to apply lipstick, "you cannot remain in this time. There are events in your future that are fixed points, and as a time traveler you know the consequences of altering a fixed point." River seemed to pause, but did not turn to face them. River was staring down at her own hands, now, absentmindedly fiddling with a gilded makeup compact. "You've lived a long time, have you not?" She asked Diana. "You know the truth. Everything ends. Whether it's tomorrow or a hundred years from now." Bruce took a step towards River, but she did not react. "Your time here has ended, River. We've already spoken to Luthor about the possibility of Savage planning something within the Legion. If he investigates, you know what will happen to him. I believe you don't want to hurt anyone else." 

"No, I don't," River's voice had a strange cadence to it as she opened the compact. Her reflection stared back at them in the small mirror, over her shoulder. There was something in River's eyes that just looked wrong. Diana couldn't place what it was, but it must have caused her to hesitate. As if in slow motion, she watched everything unfold.  Bruce reached out and grasped the other woman around the bicep, turning her to face them. When she turned, Diana could see River raise the compact to her lips and blow. A cloud of silvery powder shot towards them. Diana rushed forward, but not quickly enough for either of them to avoid breathing in the particles that hung in the air around them.  "As I was saying, I don't want to hurt anyone, but I will. You've forced me into a corner. I wish you hadn't." River clipped the compact shut, then turned her back on Bruce and Diana's before packing up the belongings in front of her into the little pouch. 

Diana heard Bruce make an unusual sound before falling to his knees. She reached for him but everything around her spun in and out of focus. When Diana's gaze fell upon Bruce again, he was sprawled on the ground unconscious. She attempted to kneel down beside him but her legs felt like jelly. Somehow she reached him without falling, but it was undeniable that everything around her seemed increasingly distorted. Even holding on to consciousness was becoming a difficult feat. River loomed over both of them like a giant. Her lips were red as blood against her pale skin, set in a grim line. "What have you done, River?" Diana managed to croak out as the darkness began to close in all around her. There was a sadness in River's voice that was undeniable, "I am truly sorry. I had no quarrel with either of you, but...it won't be long now. The drug isn't meant to be administered this way, in the undiluted form. I honestly don't know what it will do." And with that, River turned and walked away, disappearing into the night as if she'd never been there at all. The world pivoted abruptly on its axis and Diana realized she was now laying on the ground beside Bruce, although she had no awareness of falling. She had just enough strength to press the emergency button on her communicator and pray that The Doctor would find their location before everything faded to black. 


	8. Diana

Memory is a funny thing. Over time, we tend to forget the small mundane details of everyday life, and when one has lived for a thousand years or more, the effect is only compounded. Diana could not recall many details of her childhood, if she were asked. Of course, she could vividly remember some things, like the first time she ever climbed on the back of a horse or swung a sword. The first time Diana ever ventured away from the shores of her island home into the darker, more dangerous waters of the sea beyond should have been one of those mundane events that faded into the recesses of her mind to be lost to time. It would have been if that hadn't been the night she nearly drowned. 

The Amazons had been granted immortality by the gods, but that didn't mean they were indestructible. Diana was told the stories of how some of her sisters had fallen in battle, over the years, and were buried on a high hill by their temple, while their triumphant spirits moved on to the fields of Elysium. Still, she was the daughter of the queen and the child of Zeus himself, a demigod in her own right. So while Diana academically understood that she could be hurt under the wrong circumstances, fortune always seemed to favor her, and it was easy to forget sometimes that she wasn't actually invincible. 

A more cautious person would have listened to the elders about the dangerous riptide beyond the cliffs. Queen Hippolyta concurred that swimming out past the breakers was far too dangerous for one as young as Diana. Despite the gifts that had been bestowed upon her by the gods, Diana had not yet flowered into womanhood, nor had she come into her full strength. They all agreed that she was a girl still, not a warrior like her sisters, and so it was forbidden. She remembered how the words stung, and the need to prove to her mother most of all that she was just as strong as any Amazon. 

The night air was tinged with excitement as she snuck down to the shore, wading out into the surf. She planned to swim out to the edge of the mist that shrouded Themyscira from the outside world and back. It was farther than most Amazons ever ventured. The swim out wasn't just easy; under a clear sky and a full moon the view of her home was breathtaking. Diana was a few minutes into her journey back to shore when the current caught her and pulled her under. As long as she lived, she would never forget the feeling of being dragged into the water and spun around. Some people drowned because of fatigue, but many simply succumbed disorientation, and were lost to the crushing depths before finding their way up. Diana was fortunate enough to reach the moonlit surface and swim safely to shore, vowing to never tell anyone how she nearly met her fate, and to henceforth pay the realm of Poseidon the respect it deserved.

Truth be told, so many centuries later, the events of that evening rarely crossed Diana's mind. It was the first thing that she thought of as she began to regain consciousness, however, because although the environment around her was cold and dark, the sensation of where she was could not be confused with anything else: she was under water. The fear at that realization was pulled deep from the recesses of her memory, but it was accompanied by the knowledge that she needed to find the light before she drowned. Diana scanned her surroundings, her eyes setting on a pin prick of brightness in the far distance. The time it took to reach it felt like an eternity, but although her lungs burned with the need for oxygen, Diana refused to fail; she had no idea how these circumstances befell her, but she would reach her destination and find out what happened to her if it was the last thing she did. 

The rush of cool night air when she burst through the surface of the wave was glorious, and she drank it in until the feeling of lightheadedness subsided. The moon was strikingly bright and almost unnaturally close to the surface of the water. Diana was relieved to realize that she was only a few hundred feet off the shore of an island that resembled the place of her birth so closely that she nearly mistook them for the same location. Once she was on dry land, further investigation led her to realize that the similarities were astounding. With architecture that resembled that of ancient Greece and a dearth of any visible technology, Diana began to wonder if she had been somehow sent back in time to one of the great cities that lined the shores of the Mediterranean. If that was the case, what of The Doctor and Clara? They wouldn't just leave her floating in the ocean. Surely if she awakened in such a state, in the time of her youth, something terrible must have happened to them. Then there was Bruce. Diana reassured herself that he always found his way out of dangerous situations, but if her theory was in any way correct, where and  _ when  _ was he? The only certainty was that she could not recall for the life of her where she had been before waking. Any attempt to do so was like wading through a thick fog that settled in the back of her mind. Despite her confusion, however, there was something inside that told her she must find Bruce and the others before time ran out. 

Diana followed a trail of torches down the beach to the base of a large stone staircase. Her eyes traveled upward, towards the very precipice. There was a structure there, and judging by the music that drifted down to her on the breeze, there were likely people within. Hopefully, whoever resided in such a beautiful place would be somewhat friendly or at the very least charitable enough to shelter her for the night and provide her with much needed information before sending her on her way. Upon reaching the summit, she discovered what resembled an open air palace, and within a group of men and women engaged in various tasks. One was playing an instrument while another sang. There was food and drink on the tables, and dancing. At the far end of the room, flanked by gilded statues that glittered in the torch light, sat a young woman on a great stone chair. She wondered if this was their queen for though she wore no crown, there was a regal countenance about her. 

The merriment did not cease when Diana crossed the threshold. To her surprise, it seemed as if none of the inhabitants save for the one who sat upon the throne were even aware of her presence. "Greetings, weary traveler," the maiden's voice echoed through the cavernous room, "and be welcome here. You are just in time for the feast of Midsummer." Diana kneeled at the base of the steps below the throne, as would have been customary in days long past. "I am grateful for such hospitality, your grace. I was washed ashore with the tide and sadly my ship is nowhere to be found. I have no knowledge of where I am or even any memory of how I came to be here. Can you please help me find my way?" The maiden leaned forward into the shadow of the torches. She suddenly looked older, and Diana wondered if this was simply a trick of the light or something else at play. 

"It is your choice," the young woman smiled sadly down at her. There was a darkness that hung about her that Diana now realized had nothing to do with light or shadow. "With all due respect," she replied cautiously to the strange young woman, "I have no idea what that means." The scene around Diana began to slow down and flicker like an old movie real. Sounds of music and laughter distorted. Before she could utter a single word, the entire scene was plunged into the silent darkness of a nightmare. It was strange enough to give anyone pause, even Diana. She was well aware that there was a time, in years past, when stumbling across islands full of magical beings was far more commonplace. Before she could contemplate this possibility further, a lit torch appeared in front of her, held by an old woman. 

"Do you seek the truth, traveler?" She asked, her black eyes fixed on Diana. Despite the ominous tone to their encounter, Diana nearly laughed at the irony of the question. She unconsciously reached for the lasso at her side but to her surprise, it was gone. Her sword and shield were also gone, as well as her armor. Vaguely, Diana wondered how she hadn't been aware of the absence of these treasured items until that moment. The thought that they likely now sat at the bottom of the sea filled her with a profound and indescribable sadness. "I am Diana, daughter of Hippolyta who is Queen of the Amazons. Before I agree to any terms I would like to know whom I am addressing." The crone was smiling now. Once again, the room was lit, but now it was empty. To Diana's surprise, it now looked more like a temple than a palace. There were many statues of her gods throughout the room. All were overtly familiar, save one. It was smaller and more worn than the others, but it very closely resembled the queen to whom she'd recently spoken. When Diana turned back towards the old woman, she was nowhere to be found. In a nearby corner of the room sat a woman with dark hair, a baby nursing at her breast. She looked up at Diana with a warm and loving expression. "It is difficult to trust your eyes here," she said in a voice like a whisper, "so one must trust their heart, instead. What truth does your heart tell you?" Time seemed to slow as Diana looked around the temple and back to the dark haired woman. "This isn't real, is it?" she asked. The woman only tilted her head to the side, "Some of these things are from your memories. Others, from mine. We are in the dream space, now, and that exists outside of time. I was able to follow you here because you bear the mark of my magic." The words resonated with Diana and her mind made sense of them, yet her confusion only seemed to intensify. As if sensing this, the woman cradled her baby closer to her and rose slowly to her feet, gliding silently across the room to stand before her solitary guest. Without warning, she reached out a slender hand and pressed the tip of her index finger to Diana's forehead. 

Her gentle touch resonated like a sledgehammer to the skull, shattering the fog that clouded Diana's thoughts into a million shards of brilliant crystal before her eyes. She heard someone cry out and realized the voice was her own. All at once, memories of the recent past came flooding back. Arkham Asylum. A strange book full of notes and formulas. Standing on a rooftop under the stars. Bruce falling to his knees in front of her. Her own voice echoed in her head, full of despair.  _ "What have you done, River?"  _ Diana clamped one hand over her mouth in silent horror. 

The dark haired woman had not moved, and although Diana feared the answer, she needed to know the truth. "I was drugged, not cursed," she informed her new companion, "so please, I don't understand. How is it that I bear the mark of your magic?" The mother crooked a finger towards Diana, bidding her to follow, and padded on bare feet towards the temple fire that seemed to have sprung up all on its own behind them. The flames were so high that although she followed quickly, the other woman disappeared behind them. When she emerged from the other side, the form that greeted her was none other than the young queen who so closely resembled the statue nearby. Her robes fluttered in the breeze, and as they did the torches flickered; her voice rang like bells in breeze, full of longing for days long dead. "Many years ago, the gods realized that their true strength in the world of men was obtained through the power of worship. The oldest among them had followers across many lands, some of whom practiced the old ways and wielded magic that would become the stuff of legend. One such coven in the lands beyond the Acropolis discovered that there was a way to heighten their rituals by burning blends of herbs to make humans more receptive to receive the presence of the divine. The high priestess became so skilled at this practice that she was able to directly infuse her recipes with magic. My magic. You are under its influence now."

Diana thought of the statue. Unlike the unearthly maiden in front of her, the statue wore a crown adorned with a full moon and two smaller crescents. She'd seen the image before, doodled in the margins of Tetch's notebook. At the time, it made no sense, but now...Diana knew its origin, although she had no memory of learning it. Like the strange apparitions in the landscape of the dream space or words whispered from the mother's lips, the image of the triple goddess symbol seemed to travel across time and awaken something within her, long forgotten. 

"Hecate… You are the goddess Hecate. When I was a child there was a coven of your followers on my island." The young queen sat on a nearby bench and crossed her legs, demurely. In the firelight, her dark eyes sparkled. "I have gone by many names over the millennia. The goddess of rebirth. The guardian of the crossroads. The one who is three. But you are not wrong. I am Hecate, daughter of the Titans, sister to Zeus who is your father. I suppose that makes us kin. I'm sorry that our first meeting should be under these circumstances." Diana sat down beside her. In the form of the maiden, Hecate appeared to be in the flower of youth, and yet she was nearly old as time itself. Many of the Gods to whom Diana bore relation and also pledged her fealty had faded from the world of men when belief in them had waned like the darkening moon. It was only through the other Gods or beings of the ancient world, such as herself, that they could make contact. And even then, they could only manifest under certain circumstances, if they desired to do so at all. 

"My Lady, I am honored that you came to my aide," Diana stated with no shortage of humility, "and I only hope that your wisdom can help me find my way home." Hecate nodded, considering the words carefully. "You have already found your way home, Diana. When your friends could not heal you and your lover they did the only thing that made sense: they brought you both to your mother. Through the care of the Amazons you will both soon be well." Diana could not help but smile at these words and yet, when the reality of the situation resonated fully, she released an audible gasp. "Oh Gods...they brought us to Themyscira? The Doctor  _ brought a man to the queen of the Amazons and requested aide?  _ I cannot imagine anything could be so dire." To her surprise, the amusement that played out across Hecate's face during her shocked exclamation faded, entirely. "You may be unable to imagine, but you would be mistaken. The magic that was used on you will fade with time, but it was not time that either of you had. With the amount of the drug that was given you were both essentially poisoned, and despite your strength you may have been beyond healing before an antidote could take effect. I doubt your lover would have survived the ordeal." Had they truly underestimated the situation so gravely? While The Doctor had informed them of many things regarding his wife, she could not help but think they'd been woefully unprepared for the degree of ruthlessness that awaited them. It was not a mistake Diana would make a second time. "My Lady you said your priestess used these spells and herbs to better your worshippers. Why, then, did we become so ill?" 

The room around them visibly began to darken and grow colder. Diana realized her host was no longer trying to help her see the truth by putting her off balance. This was something completely different: the rage of a goddess made real. "My priestess kept a Grimoire of all her spells and recipes, including the one that inspired what was used on you," Hecate said matter of factly in a voice that trembled with anger, "but the book in its entirety was lost to time. Portions of it remained in an electronic format in the distant future, where it was found by those who would take its wisdom and pervert that power for their own gain. In its truest form, the magic is sequenced together with a substance that can alter consciousness and open the third eye, making one...more aware and receptive to devotion. The would-be king pieced together a version of this, and I'm sure you can guess what end he craves. Savage shows no regard for the past or even time, but in his carelessness he will not be the only one to pay for his arrogance. He must not be permitted to lay waste to this world."

Behind Hecate's back, Diana noticed the horizon began to brighten. She thought, at first, that this too was tied to the goddesses changing moods, until Hecate closed her eyes and smiled knowingly. "The dream is ending," she stated, in a far off, echoing voice, "and we have not much time. There is a path to the goal you seek. Find the Grimoire and a sorcerer who can wield its power. Someone who fights for the light but is not afraid to touch the darkness. You already know of whom I speak. Together you will discover its secrets and how to use them." The brightness was now all around them. Even the features of the goddesses face seemed to be engulfed in the golden light. "Do not be afraid," said the whisper, that now seemed to resonate in the back of Diana's mind as the dream world faded to white. "When the time is right I will find you again." As Diana attempted to shield her eyes from the glare, it began to recede, and the world took shape again. Instead of staring into the face of a goddess, she found that she was laying on a hospital bed. Above, the purple healing ray of the Amazons shone down upon her. Before Diana could even scan the room for Bruce to ascertain his well being, her mother was standing over her. Instead of being angry, Hippolyta appeared incredibly relieved, almost as if she had been beside herself with worry. "My sun and stars," she said, pulling Diana into her embrace, "thank the Gods you have returned to us."


	9. Clara

The Doctor liked to call her his impossible girl. Frankly, Clara never understood this little term of endearment. Before meeting him, her life was full, but ordinary, as most people's lives tended to be. She went to work every day, spent time with her mates and even had a steady boyfriend. Now, on the other hand, impossibility seemed to fill more and more of her time.

Logically, Clara understood that their luck wouldn't last forever. One day, they would find themselves in a truly hopeless situation, and The Doctor wouldn't pull a solution out of thin air, as he always seemed to do. Deep down, lay the knowledge that on that day, the impossible girl might need to live up to her name and help The Doctor find his way. What Clara had not foreseen, however, as they waited for the return of the heroes who had come to their aide, was that today might be the day when everything went straight to hell.

"Doctor, what's wrong with them?" Clara could hear the panic in her own voice as The Doctor scanned the unconscious figures in front of her with his sonic screwdriver. When the alarm on their new communicators blared, it was immediately evident that something was wrong. The T.A.R.D.I.S located Bruce and Diana easily, and materialized around them (a quick exit strategy that had already been planned, to be used if necessary). Clara half expected their new companions to be in a bad way, after some kind of altercation. That they might be unresponsive on the ground never would have entered her mind. 

"This makes no sense," The Doctor said almost to himself. "One of them must have alerted us they were in danger. That was only moments ago. How could anything wreak havoc on a person's body so quickly? " Clara sunk down on her knees and began to strip off anything that would impede medical attention. She found the release for Bruce's cowl and gently slid off the headpiece. His breast plate was next, then Diana's armor. "Was it poison? What were they given?" She asked as she went about her work. The Doctor paced back and forth as he put his thoughts together, "No. You don't understand. It's acting like a toxin but it's the drug. The formula in Tetch's notebook. But it's not behaving like any medication from Earth I've ever seen. This...is beyond the capability of the T.A.R.D.I.S to fix…I don't know how to help them, Clara." The Doctor plopped down in a nearby chair as if all the energy had suddenly drained from him. His words were like ice water in her stomach as she tried to extract anything that could make sense of their current predicament, "We have an antidote. Why can't we give them that?" The Doctor shook his head, "It won't work. The antidote needs to be administered fairly soon after exposure. I don't know why but the effects of the drug have progressed past the point where it would be effective in reversing the damage. It would take a miracle to help them now." 

Clara's mind raced. It couldn't end like this. The world needed Batman and Wonder Woman, but in truth, they needed them too. Even if Clara hadn't come to like and respect both of them, despite obvious differences, the fact remained that she and The Doctor might have a great deal of difficulty thwarting Savage and his associates without their help. What hope did they have if whoever did this was able to incapacitate their friends? Bruce's alter ego was well known for his fighting skills, and Diana's home was a mythical island of warriors. Her origins were essentially divine. 

The answer had been staring them right in the face. "Doctor!" she exclaimed so suddenly that he actually jumped. "Diana's island, Themyscira. In the stories they say the Amazons communicated directly with the gods. If the T.A.R.D.I.S could find it, maybe a miracle isn't out of the realm of possibility." The Doctor's entire face lit up as he stood and practically ran to the main console. "Clara Oswald, you are brilliant. We can absolutely get to Themyscira because the T.A.R.D.I.S has been there before. Once she's been somewhere, finding her way back is the easy part. As for the divine intervention bit, that won't be necessary. The Amazons have a healing device that can fix you up right as rain even if you're on death's doorstep." He punched in the coordinates and the entire ship lurched as it hurtled through the time vortex towards their destination. "So wait," Clara asked as something he said registered in her brain, "If getting to the island is the easy part and the Amazons can heal them, what is the difficult part of all this? It seems like an ideal solution, which is wonderful because it's literally the only plan we've got." The Doctor smiled uncomfortably, "We are going to an island full of some of the deadliest warriors in the history of the world. Despite the fact that men are expressly forbidden, I left there on amicable terms. That being said, I have not been to Themyscira in a very long time. Now, I plan to reappear only to ask their queen to save the lives of her estranged daughter and the man that she is living with, and hope she doesn't blame both of us for why her only child is grievously ill. That is the difficult part: getting us through this with our lives."

**************************

From a high balcony, Hippolyta surveyed the afternoon's training exercises on the field below. She was silent for some time, a factor that mitigated the relief Clara knew she should have felt, since their friends were currently being healed and they were no longer being held at the tip of a spear. Despite The Doctor's concerns, everything went much better than they could have hoped. Now, they waited for the word of the queen, which would ultimately decide the fate of all involved. It really was curious how things worked out, sometimes.

The entire scene was something out of a painting from ancient times. Hippolyta was flanked by guards as she observed the warriors sparring with sword and shield, but the armor at her breast and the weapon at her side suggested that she had little need of them. She was regal and strong, with dark cascading curls and features that were reminiscent of Diana's beauty, but not of the disarming warmth that accompanied it. When she finally spoke, there was a weariness to Hippolyta's voice that was unmistakable, "Diana's banishment was regrettable. As her queen, I acted without favoritism. No Amazon is permitted to violate the law, not even to help her people. But as her mother, I have long wished the events of that day transpired differently, and that perhaps one day the Gods would see fit for us to be reunited. I will admit, I imagined it differently." She turned to face The Doctor and Clara, her expression troubled as she came to sit across from them. "It's been my experience that things rarely go the way we think they should," The Doctor replied, his voice contemplative, "but the only thing that's important is how we respond when that moment comes. I must say, you're handling all of this better than I anticipated." 

Hippolyta lifted a bronze pitcher from a nearby table and poured the honey colored liquid within into the chalice beside it. "You are an ally, Doctor," she stated as she sipped the wine. "The presence of you and your companions is not something that would incur hostility from the Amazons, although I am surprised to find you working with the Justice League. And while the circumstances surrounding the nature of your arrival leaves something to be desired, I am pleased that you thought to bring my daughter here." 

The Doctor chuckled, softly, "On the contrary, I can't take credit for the decision to seek your aide. That inspired choice belongs to Ms. Oswald." Hippolyta leaned back in her seat, her eyebrows raised slightly. "You are a brave one, child," Clara realized the words were unmistakably directed towards her. "It was quite a risk you took, coming here. Were I not aware of Diana's current romantic entanglement with Mr. Wayne...yes, I'm aware of who is behind the mask, don't look so shocked. In any case, if I did not make it my business to know who my daughter associates with, my eagerness to acquiesce to The Doctor's request may have been somewhat less forthcoming. Men, as you probably know, are unwelcome here, and admitting one to the healing chamber is practically unprecedented. But he is, as you said earlier, not just any man. And while I still do not approve of their relationship, I would not deprive my daughter of the opportunity to share her life with someone she obviously cares for deeply." 

The unexpected sentiment caught Clara off guard. She honestly hadn't known what to expect when they set foot on the shores of Themyscira, but having a heart to heart with royalty never factored into the potential scenarios that crossed her mind. Bodily harm at the hands of a race of immortal warriors seemed far more likely an outcome, but neither she nor The Doctor hesitated to do what they felt was right, when the time came. Mind you, the decision had been accompanied by a fair share of anxiety on her part, but what other options had there been? Failing to complete their mission would be disastrous for everyone, as Clara was well aware. Could one be considered brave when they acted simply because they had no other choice? She wasn't sure, but if it put her in the queen's esteem and put them closer to their goal, Clara would certainly take it.

"Thank you for everything, your majesty," Clara stated sincerely and somewhat awkwardly, as she'd never addressed royalty before, "and for your kind words. I only hoped to help our friends and the world, but if we could also help you reunite with your daughter...it was certainly worth the risk. My mum passed years ago and I would give just about anything to see her again." At these words, it seemed like the queen's features softened, or perhaps it was just a trick of the light. "I am sorry," she replied, and the sadness in the older woman's voice told her she had not imagined the shift. "The bond between mother and daughter is unlike anything else in this world." Hippolyta opened her mouth as if to say something else, but seemed at a loss for words. A somber silence followed, until it was broken by The Doctor.

"Your support will mean a great deal to Diana," The Doctor assured her. "She's made her home in the world of men and fights to defend it. But the threat we face, now...it doesn't just impact the far shores beyond this island. If time and reality are affected, the fight may soon be at your doorstep, as well. I think you know that." Hippolyta placed her empty cup on the table, and rose to stand. She made a gesture of her hand as if beckoning them to follow, then began to walk. Clara was the first to comply, although she soon realized that The Doctor was close behind. He seemed slightly flustered by his obvious lack of control in this situation, something she knew shouldn't be amusing, but it was, all the same. 

"Your candor is appreciated, Doctor. However, I fear you have either overestimated your insight into the situation or underestimated mine. Even if I cared nothing for man's world, I am not so naive as to assume the danger you speak of cannot reach these shores. I will do what I can to aid this endeavor, lest the future we spoke about never come to pass." She slowed to a stop outside the doorway of what appeared to be a room for healing. Although it didn't exactly give off a hospital vibe, the overall demeanor of those within conveyed the overall purpose. Before leading them into the chambers, Hippolyta paused, turning towards them slightly, "And the man that started all this trouble...Savage...is he truly immortal?" The Doctor only shrugged, "It would seem so, yes. Why do you ask?" Hippolyta smiled coldly, "Savage has already caused my daughter to come to harm, and threatens everything I hold dear through his ill mannered schemes. I will offer him up as a play thing for Cerberus before I allow him to prevent me from knowing my own grandchildren. That's the secret that all immortals know, Doctor: at the end of the day, there are so many things worse than death." At these words, she promptly turned her back on them and moved across the threshold. They followed Hippolyta into the room, which was bathed in violet light, eager to discover the progress of their friends. Amistad all of this, Clara silently counted herself lucky to be an ally of the Amazons and the exceedingly complicated woman who was their queen. She couldn't help but feel that if The Legion of Doom wreaked havoc upon the timeline as The Doctor feared, Vandal Savage would find himself with a formidable enemy that he had never anticipated. Perhaps, after terrorizing so many, over the years, it was he who should be afraid. 


	10. The Doctor

The time vortex was beautiful in a way that was difficult to describe. At the height of their civilization, the Time Lords mastered travel within its depths unlike any society before them, and perhaps unlike any since. However, even the most seasoned traveler among them might have missed the small imperfections that were beginning to form in the periphery: minute cracks and fissures around the edges where the vortex met the void of time and space. Each one of them was an anomaly in history forming before The Doctor's eyes as he stared intently at the T.A.R.D.I.S's screen. Since River's abduction and the disruption of the timeline, he knew it was only a matter of time before this happened. Events were beginning to change, and those changes were almost guaranteed to be highly unpredictable. He wasn't looking forward to the fallout, whatever it might be. For the time being, however, The Doctor found himself trying to look for the bright side. Some things, after all, were working out in their favor.

Fortunately, the decision to venture to Themyscira had been one of those things. He thought, perhaps, that he'd breathed an audible sigh of relief to find that upon waking, Diana was not much worse for wear. She was elated to be well and back in her home, but especially to be welcomed back by her mother with open arms after a long exile. Yet even in her happiness of reconciliation, The Doctor noticed how Diana's eyes occasionally drifted across the room to the table where Bruce lay. As a human, he required a more lengthy treatment than she for his health to be restored, but her concerns were not just for his physical state. "Hecate came to me in a vision," Diana informed them, earning a look of surprise from everyone on the receiving end of her revelation, including her mother. "Somehow Savage found someone to imbue his drug with traces of her magic. Bruce and I were caught off guard and given a dangerously large dose, but Savage isn't trying to make people sick. I suspect the end game is to set himself up as a dictator or figure of worship." While The Doctor was aware of the closeness all Amazons had to the gods, and as much sense as her words made, he remained skeptical. "Diana, you know that you were under the influence of powerful hallucinogens," he stated, doing his best not to sound patronizing. "Are you sure that it was Hecate? Sometimes our subconscious can help us find solutions…" Diana nodded vigorously from side to side in protest, "Hecate appeared in a dream state but it wasn't a hallucination. She told me there were traces of magic in my blood and that the marriage of spell work and pharmacology made people more open to communing with and worshipping a higher power. What if someone used that power with ill intent, Doctor?" For a moment he'd only stood silently contemplating the possibilities. On the surface, he knew he'd faced worse, but if Diana's theory was correct, the outcome of such a course of action could be insidious. "If he were to distribute it on a mass scale there would be very little resistance, I imagine," he replied with a growing feeling of dread. Even Superman, while immune to most things, had a weakness for magic. Throw in a kryptonite chaser and Savage could bring even the man of steel under his influence. The League would put up a good fight, but it might not be one they could win with the possibility of so many under Savage's control, should he dispense the drug. Ideally, they needed to stop the spread before it started, but if they couldn't, knowing how to disable the spell could greatly boost the efficacy of the antidote in their possession. 

"Did Hecate give us any guidance on how to combat this problem?" The Doctor reluctantly asked. Diana may very well have communed with a deity, but he felt silly looking to the divine for a solution. "When you found Cheetah in the Museum I believe they were stealing information from the computer to complete their plan," Diana responded slowly, as if she was piecing everything together as she spoke, "but the Grimoire of Hecate's followers was lost to time. Only a portion of the tome was contained in the database. If we could find the book and enact a counter spell, it could give us the advantage we seek." Hippolyta suddenly stood from her seat and strode across the room, towards where he was standing. "It could give us more than that," she stated resolutely, now face to face with The Doctor. "Hecate's magic can influence life, itself. After the counter spell is performed you may be able to find something in the book to make Savage vulnerable to attack, and if so, you must not hesitate, lest the world fall. I know how greatly you value life, Doctor, but you also know what needs to be done." 

The queen would have continued to plead her case, had a voice not interrupted her train of thought. "I mean no disrespect," Clara chimed in from her vantage to the conversation, "but how likely is it that we can find someone to perform this magic, should we even be capable of getting our hands on a book that is...what did you call it? Lost to time?" No one responded to the question immediately. Clara leaned her back against a nearby column, arms crossed against her chest. "Clara, most of the time when we encounter magic, it turns out to be science or technology beyond our imagining," The Doctor informed her, when no one else volunteered to explain, "but there are supernatural things in this world. For many years, magic was nearly gone. No one believed in it, so it faded. But now, it appears, there has been a resurgence. Logically, the next step is to align ourselves with a practitioner capable of what has been suggested here, and that may be an undertaking in itself, I'm afraid." 

The list of potential allies, in that respect, was short. Doctor Fate, were he even willing to assist, was too unpredictable and while he operated in cooperation with The League, his motives were his own. Most other magic wielders known to the League were not skilled enough for such magic. A member of the coven that once resided in the thick woods of Themyscira, close to the far shores, would have been ideal. They, however, had dwindled in numbers until vanishing completely, long ago. The children of Hecate, herself, would be able to wield her magic, but only one sorceress among them was still known to walk the world. Going to her for help was a decidedly terrible idea, The Amazons were quick to inform him.

"You're _absolutely certain_ that Circe will not put grudges aside, even to aide her own mother?" The Doctor could hear the frustration in his own voice as he questioned Hippolyta. "She is my sworn enemy," the queen replied, without missing a beat. He turned toward Diana but she held up her hand to halt his words before he could even speak. "Doctor, no. She has never been trustworthy, and during my last encounter with her, she used her magic to turn me into a pig." Hippolyta's eyes went visibly wide, "Diana, why did you not tell me this? I know we didn't part on good terms but I'm still your mother. I would have intervened…" Diana smiled at Hippolyta's concern, "I am happy to hear it, truly, but your help wasn't needed. Bruce was able to bargain with Circe and she changed me back of her own volition." The queen's expression seemed to change from worry to silent amazement. It was now her turn to glance across the room towards Bruce's unconscious form. "Remarkable," she said almost to herself before turning back to her daughter. "He is mortal, but he was willing to face the wrath of Circe? And somehow, he was actually successful, which implies he gave much to the witch to ensure your safe return. I don't know if that indicates great courage or exceptional foolishness but perhaps you have found a partner that is not entirely unworthy of you, Diana. I'm glad I kept this one alive, I think."  The Doctor couldn't help but smile to himself as he thought back fondly on the conversation from earlier that day. 

Eventually, the discussion circled back to its original track. Ultimately it was Diana who was able to steer them in the right direction. "I keep going over Hecate's words in my head," she stated, thoughtfully, "and she gave me a pretty clear description of the kind of magic wielder that we need. At least…I thought it was a general guideline. But what if she actually meant a specific person?" Clara walked across the room and sat down beside her, "Okay. What  _ exactly _ did she say?" Diana turned in her direction, but her words were directed to all present, "Someone who fights for the light but is not afraid to touch the darkness… I think that I know of whom Hecate speaks."

The Doctor could feel a headache building behind his eyes as he set the T.A.R.D.I.S down on a street corner, just outside of London. It was late at night, hours (and several years into the future via the time vortex) since he left his friends behind to seek a man that would be harder to find than Hecate's Grimoire, according to Diana. "John Constantine is an acquired taste," she told him as they all walked together towards the T.A.R.D.I.S doors, "but he is a good man, and he fights for what is right. He is also a powerful warlock who is well versed in the dark arts, and while this may make him our best chance at deciphering Hecate's magic, it has also earned him some dangerous enemies. Remaining concealed from those entities is the very reason he won't be the easiest man to locate, even with your technology." He had only shrugged in response and flashed her a smile, "What fun would it be if it was easy? Besides, I know someone who can help us find him even if his magic obscures the T.A.R.D.I.S's navigation system. Not that I think it's going to be an issue, but it never hurts to be prepared." Not long after, he bade goodbye to Diana and Clara (asking the latter to remain in Themyscira, and watch over their friends) as well as The Queen and her guard, who put so much faith in him to find their prospective ally. He gave them all his assurances that it would be done, and everything that happened since led him to this time and place. 

Perhaps he was always meant to end up here, The Doctor thought to himself as he exited the T.A.R.D.I.S. out into the crisp evening air. After all, what were the odds that the T.A.R.D.I.S would need to find a man that couldn't be found, but could so easily locate another traveler outside of his own time? The man in question cast a slim shadow under the streetlight as he walked, his trench coat billowing out behind him in the stiff breeze. At first, The Doctor thought his presence had gone undetected, until he saw the figure stop dead in his tracks. The man chuckled softly and, jamming his hands in his pockets, quickened his stride across the street to meet him. "It's been a while, Doctor," Jack Harkness noted, a wide grin on his face as he stepped into view. "I was starting to think you forgot about me." The Doctor couldn't help but return his smile. Say what you would about Jack, and people often did, but few immortals ever retained the zest for life that he seemed to constantly exude. It was enjoyable to be around and a bit infectious, at times. "Oh, Jack," he responded, half glad his old friend hadn't yet roped him into a hug, "how could I forget about you? You're a permanent resident of my list of impossible people and things." Now, Jack laughed in earnest, clapping him on the back, "I think that I just got called strange, but that's okay. All things considered, I will take it as a compliment. Besides, if nothing strange was going on, you wouldn't be here, am I right?" As much as he was enjoying this time with Jack, The Doctor couldn't help but think of the precarious position they were all in. His smile faltered, and Jack knew him well enough in any regeneration to notice. "Doctor, what's wrong?" Jack asked, suddenly growing serious. "I will tell what's going on in greater detail, on the way," he replied, motioning towards the T.A.R.D.I.S. and Jack was quick to follow, "but essentially, I need you to find a man that can't be found, not even by the T.A.R.D.I.S. and once we do, convince him to help save the universe." Jack was already taking off his coat and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt as they entered the T.A.R.D.I.S. "Okay," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice as he sat in a nearby chair and crossed his legs, "Torchwood may be defunct, but I still have connections in a few clandestine organizations that can put us on the right track. If that doesn't pan out, there are other options. Who's the unlucky bastard we're looking for?" The Doctor pulled the lever to his right and the T.A.R.D.I.S began to dematerialize into the time vortex. They were on their way to who knows where, but Jack seemed to be confident that their course would soon become clear. "Constantine," he said over his shoulder, watching distractedly as the faults on the screen become more prominent throughout space and time. "Please tell your associates, the name of the man we need to locate as soon as possible is John Constantine."


	11. Bruce

Rooftop patrols were sometimes a tedious undertaking, and that was on a good night. Not that this was a point of contention, mind you. The fact of the matter was that a long, boring evening meant an uneventful evening devoid of rampant criminal activity. In Gotham City, Bruce reminded himself, that was a  _ very  _ good night. A more optimistic person might jump to the conclusion that after years of trying to save the city from itself, he might actually be starting to see the fruits of his labor. Bruce could never be accused of being an optimist, but these days he caught himself having moments of being hopeful about the future. It was something that he mostly kept to himself, (having an image to uphold) but he was pretty sure that he knew the cause.

As he surveyed the city, Bruce heard the crackle of static on his communicator and breaking through patches of the abrasive noise, the faint sound of an audible voice. He couldn't distinguish what was coming through and wondered vaguely how some outside interference could have intruded on a private channel before making a mental note to check for loose wiring inside his cowl upon his return to the cave. Then, as quickly as it came, the disturbance dissipated. "Master Bruce?" The distinct sound of Alfred's British accent rang clearly across the line. "I'm here," Bruce replied as a stiff breeze blew through his cape, "and if you're checking in to see if I followed your advice to wear the suit with the warming panels in it the answer is no. Also, it's much colder tonight than I anticipated, so please feel free to say that you told me so." There was a faint chuckle from the older man, "Tempting, but perhaps another time. I simply wanted to inform you that Ms. Diana has returned from her trip abroad and is hoping to join you for a late supper. What message would you like me to relay?" Bruce couldn't suppress the smile that spread across his face at Alfred's words. He and Diana had both been so busy lately with individual obligations that even when they were lucky enough to be in the same place at the end of the day, there was little time for anything besides sleep. The result of her absence, however, was a new and strange phenomenon. Before being with Diana the thought that he could love and desire someone so intensely that he would crave her touch was completely alien to Bruce. He affirmed for years to anyone who questioned his solitary life that he was Batman and Batman didn't need anyone, except that clearly wasn't true...not anymore. She'd gotten to him in a way that no one else ever had and for once, Bruce didn't want to run from it. Maybe he'd finally arrived at a place in his life where this was what he wanted, or perhaps he was simply happy. Whatever the case, just the thought of Diana waiting for him at home was sufficient temptation to cut his patrol short for the night.

Bruce opened his mouth with every intention of responding that he would be returning to the cave shortly, when the sound of gunfire rang out in the streets below. "Ah," Alfred noted in response to the far away commotion before Bruce could utter a syllable, "no rest for the weary, it would appear. I will inform Ms. Diana that you will be returning a bit later than anticipated." The smile that adorned his face just moments earlier faded into a grim line as Bruce silently raised his arm and fired a grappling gun in the direction of a nearby building. The hook made a familiar noise as it found purchase in the brick and without further hesitation, Bruce left off the rooftop into the night. He swung quietly and quickly through the air, doing his best to suppress the annoyance at being delayed from his impromptu dinner plans. Alfred raised him with certain etiquette, and one of the finer points was to never keep a lady (and most certainly not a princess) waiting. On the other hand, Diana would certainly understand the situation, and that protecting Gotham needed to take precedent. 

Bruce followed the sounds of screaming to a narrow and poorly lit alleyway. His boots were soundless as he touched down, blending into the shadows as if they were made for him alone and more than prepared to stop street crime in its tracks. Except…there was no crime to stop. While Bruce was certain that no one could have escaped in the time it took for him to span a dozen city blocks by air, he realized that this estimate was likely mistaken. The sight before him as he stepped out of the shadows was all too familiar. There were bodies sprawled out on the damp concrete: a man and a woman who may have run afoul of a mugger. Beside the woman's body, a child sat weeping, seemingly unharmed. Bruce walked with purpose now towards the crime scene, deliberately making his steps audible as he had no desire to sneak up and frighten the poor boy out of his wits. To his surprise, there was no reaction to his approach. He was several dozen paces from his destination when Bruce stepped on something that made a strange crunching sound under the tread of his boot. What he saw when he looked downwards stopped him dead in his tracks. 

Most people wouldn't think anything of it: a single pearl against the dark asphalt. But Bruce knew it wasn't alone. The other fragments of the shattered strand would have rolled into the nearby gutter. It was then that he knew why the scene was all too familiar, and the realization was like ice water in the pit of his stomach. All at once, the alley suddenly seemed to become lighter as the marquee of The Monarch Theater came into view at the far end. The child stood and turned to face him, staring him down with a dark, haunted gaze. "You didn't save them," the voice of his younger self was a whisper in the dark. Without thinking, Bruce began to back up, away from his nightmare that somehow made an appearance in his waking world. His hand was not nearly as steady as he would have liked as he touched the communicator. "Alfred," he spoke into the microphone hoping to hear a voice of reason, only to be met with static. No...that wasn't true. There was a voice beneath the static, just like before, only now it was becoming clearer. Beneath the hiss and crackle of the interference, it was unmistakably present, "Bruce...open your eyes..." 

Bruce woke up on the floor with a gasp, bolting upright. The headache that followed made him regret doing so, and when his hand instinctively shot to the area of most pronounced discomfort, it was no surprise that the scalp beneath his hand was sticky with drying blood. "You gave me quite a scare, you know," a woman's voice that was not immediately identifiable caused Bruce to turn, slowly this time, towards it's sound. His eyes focused on the source of these words, and he realized that it was Clara who sat against a nearby wall, her knees pulled up to her chest. She appeared slightly less banged up than himself, but her demeanor was all wrong. She looked defeated, somehow, and further investigation of the room gave some insight into the potential cause of this odd behavior. They were in a hallway of the T.A.R.D.I.S, but he'd never seen it like this. At both ends, metal security doors closed off the passageway, essentially trapping them in the corridor. Something had obviously happened to cause the ship to lock down but any attempt to remember past events was met with pain that threatened to split his head in two. 

"What the hell happened here?" Bruce inquired, patiently waiting for the awful sensation behind his eyes to recede. "We were boarded," she replied in a lifeless voice. "I don't even know how they got through the shields, but there they were: Savage, The Doctor's wife and some other people who I've never seen before. I ran to get you both to help fight them off. I couldn't find Diana and just as I reached you the whole ship locked down. The artificial gravity went haywire for a moment and we fell. It came back on, of course, but you'd hit your head pretty badly. I wasn't entirely sure if you were okay for a while there..." Clara's words seemed to trail off. As he waited to see if she was done speaking, Bruce became increasingly aware of how quiet the T.A.R.D.I.S was at that moment. In his considerable experience, that was definitely a bad sign.

Bruce stood with some difficulty, bracing himself against the wall to stave off the waves of dizziness that ebbed and flowed as he approached the security door. Were they not in a potentially life threatening situation he might have felt considerably more embarrassed at being informed that he essentially fell and knocked himself out, earlier that day. "What happened after the gravity stabilized?" he asked her over his shoulder as his eyes pored over every detail of the metal barrier. The pause in the conversation was a tangible thing. "It was so loud," Clara's words were slow and thoughtful, "and I could hear the fighting through the door. I tried to wake you up, but you know how that part went. Eventually, it got real quiet and I thought for sure that any moment The Doctor would pop down here and open everything up, but he never came. No one did." Bruce's gaze fell upon a small square of metal in the far bottom right-hand corner of the door that looked suspiciously like some kind of control panel. There had to be a way through. There was always a way.

Bruce lowered himself down into a crouch in front of the panel, methodically extracting tools from his utility belt required for the task. A small acetylene torch to cut through the metal. Wire cutters and clips that would, with any luck, persuade the computer within to see things his way. He had other items at his disposal, but using anything aggressive while aboard a time and space ship that he was presently unsure how to pilot (and which sometimes seemed to have a mind of its own) seemed like a terrible and reckless idea. This was compounded with Clara's own words which, whether or not she was aware, alluded to another potentially problematic situation that might await them once they overcame their current predicament. Bruce pushed down the spark of anxiety that was beginning to grow within him and forced his mind to focus on the task before him; the torch in his hand cut through the metal of the wall like a hot knife through butter. They would get through the door and find The Doctor and Diana, who were probably fine. After all, it wasn't as if either individuals in question were defenseless against danger. 

The torch finished its graceful path around the square of metal and the small panel fell to the floor exposing a tangle of wires. "There's always a way," Bruce mumbled to himself as he began to sort through them. He had to be careful not to mess anything up. One wrong move and he could knock out the gravity, the navigation or even life support. It was a lot like defusing a bomb, in many ways, and easily as dangerous. The sound of Clara's sneakers on the tile alerted Bruce that she'd left her position on the floor, and was now standing beside him. He held his breath as he cut and secured the final wire. Much to his relief and satisfaction, all of the security doors sprung open in a chain reaction, freeing them from their confinement. "Well done," Clara stated, slightly breathless. Bruce chuckled softly, "The Doctor wanted me around for a reason. Let's go see if this is what he had in mind." She nodded in agreement, and they set off together down the hallway towards the heart of the T.A.R.D.I.S. 

Whatever surgery Bruce performed on the ship's wiring seemed to take it off lock down, but as it was a complex alien vessel of little known origin, he couldn't be certain if everything was truly back to normal. On the surface, it seemed like nothing was out of the ordinary, but the nagging feeling of anxiety grew stronger inside him the longer they walked. It was just too damn quiet. Not to mention the fact that after becoming trapped, neither The Doctor nor Diana came for them. If that were the case, then perhaps they were hurt or even captured by Savage and his associates. Bruce began to plan for how they would address various scenarios in his head. Of course there would need to be contingencies in place should those plans go awry. They couldn't leave anything to chance. 

By the time they caught a glimpse of the main control room, Bruce was fairly certain that he was prepared for anything that might come their way. They weren't far from the open doorway, however, when he realized that something was blocking it. Clara's screams as she broke into a run told him everything he needed to know. The Doctor lay crumpled in a heap, his body broken, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. Whoever did this was very strong and had little regard for life, human or otherwise. Clara fell to the floor beside The Doctor, sobbing and shaking her friend before collapsing against his body. The Time Lord's eyes were frozen wide with shock, staring at nothing in particular, but it felt like they looked right through him. Bruce always felt the guilt of the lives he couldn't save, but the loss of someone he'd come to like and respect weighed heavier on him. Somehow, they still had to see this mission through and make things right, but this complicated things immeasurably. Not to mention he was starting to wonder if they were confronting the one scenario he never wanted to face. Because whenever he asked himself the question of why Diana never came to find them after the attack, that little voice inside was quick to answer:  **_You know why. Everyone is dead._ **

Bruce shook his head, as if this alone could banish those thoughts from his mind. He couldn't let worries distract him. They'd just lost a friend and valuable ally, and his absence dealt a serious blow to the success of their mission. The Doctor himself had emphasized that the fate of reality itself hung in the balance, so failure was not an option. Clara was beside herself with grief, and rightly so. This didn't need to fall on her now. He would find Diana and they would develop a new strategy. This was an unprecedented scenario, obviously, but together they'd beaten impossible odds before. 

Bruce gently laid a hand on Clara's shoulder, "I need to make sure none of Savage's people are still on the T.A.R.D.I.S. Just stay here." She didn't respond to the gesture, but that was okay. He was aware that she needed time to process this loss, but as Bruce moved away from her and towards the adjacent hallway, he also knew that now was a time for damage control. So what were the facts at hand? Well, there might be a serious threat still on board, which would need to be contained. They were aboard a ship that lost its captain, and as it traveled through both space and time, their odds of returning to present day Earth without him at the controls were definitely compromised. And last but certainly not least, he had no idea where Diana was, and it was more than a bit troubling that the last person she'd fought alongside was now dead. 

The hallway twisted and turned, seemingly going on forever. Bruce knew the ship was bigger on the inside, but their mission previously afforded him little time to truly explore the scope of the technology that allowed it. By all admission, it was quite wondrous, but presently the unknown size of the vessel was only a source of impatience. It could take forever to comb through every corridor searching for intruders, but he also couldn't leave them vulnerable to another attack, and time was no longer a luxury they had. 

The path in front of him curved. Slowly, Bruce peered around a corner and the sight that awaited him was not for the faint of heart. He'd investigated far too many crime scenes during his tenure as Batman for his liking, and this was certainly reminiscent of something from the dark streets of Gotham. The pattern of the blood on the walls and floor gave the appearance that the victim likely bled out as they ran away from their killer, leaning against the wall at times before collapsing into a corner. He approached the body at the end of the hall, slowly, crouching down to check for a pulse and unsurprised when there was none. No one could have survived that much blood loss.

Despite the obvious trauma, the woman was slumped in a strangely graceful position. Her left hand rested lightly on a deep gash across her abdomen that revealed the organs within. In her right hand, some kind of futuristic gun had yet to fully slip from her fingers. Blood matted her tawny curls and ran from the corner of her full lips. Even without it, her lips were unnaturally red.

Bruce stood over the dead woman for what seemed like a long time.There was something, just at the back of his mind: a memory below the surface trying to make itself known. He saw her, standing in the moonlight, lovely and sad. Her lips were the color of her blood. She pursed them and blew, and the air shimmered like diamonds around him. The pain that seared through his skull nearly made Bruce double over, forcing him to brace his body weight against the bloody wall for a few moments until the feeling passed. He wondered if Clara downplayed how hard he hit his head. 

As he set off once again, leaving the dead woman behind, those factors were admittedly very low on his list of concerns. Bruce was starting to suspect that somewhere within the ship he'd gotten himself hopelessly turned around, as everything looked unfamiliar. Two people were dead, and a killer might still be on board with them. Clara was alone in the control room and he wasn't certain that he could get back there quickly even if she was in danger. Diana was nowhere to be found. 

The only thing that Bruce knew for certain is that he had to keep going. He pushed forward, peering around another corner to check for danger and readying himself for a fight. If someone or something hostile was still aboard, a confrontation was inevitable; it was just a matter of time. 

At the far end, someone lay motionless across the floor. It might be another of Savage's crew left behind, but this hallway never reset from low emergency lighting, and from his vantage point he just couldn't see. He retrieved a small flashlight from his utility belt and approached carefully, shining the bright beam out ahead of him to illuminate the near darkness. The light caught something brilliant and Bruce realized to his horror that the object before him was a gleaming sword that he immediately recognized, discarded on the floor, the tip of its blade slick with blood. An Amazon never treated their weapon so carelessly.

Bruce shone the beam of the flashlight further down the hallway. Deep down, he knew who it was that lay there but the sight still caused his heart to drop to the floor. "Diana!" He knew he shouldn't scream her name. Loud noise might alert the enemy to their position. But in the moment, Bruce wasn't thinking clearly. In fact, as he rushed to her side it took all his self control not to panic. Diana was laying face down, one arm reaching out above her head in the direction of the sword that must have slipped from her grip. There was no sign of blood or trauma. Despite being attacked by surprise, she was wearing her armor. That was good, he told himself, as he kneeled down beside her. "Diana?" he called her name again more softly, and again there was no response. He needed to turn her over to find and treat her injuries. Now was not the time for an anxiety attack. 

Bruce took a deep breath and gently rolled Diana over onto her back. At first glance, she seemed to be unconscious, but he quickly realized that her injuries were much worse than they appeared. There was a single entry wound, likely from the other woman's gun, but the blast was sufficient to melt the chest plate of Diana's armor and pierce her heart. He checked her vitals. No pulse. She wasn't breathing. "Oh no...no no no no no no no…" the words were a chant on his lips. Bruce felt all capacity for rational thought slipping away as he began to perform CPR on her. He checked her again. Nothing. "Shit! Don't do this to me, please…" Desperation spiked within him. More chest compressions and futile attempts to force air into her lungs. Her lips were already starting to become cold to the touch. He didn't know how long he worked to revive her, but it was certainly far past the point where he knew that she was gone.

After what seemed like an eternity, Bruce slumped into a sitting position on the floor beside her. His chest was tight with emotion as he gazed down upon Diana's lifeless form. She'd been sent by the Amazons to help mankind like a gift from the gods, and for so many years her efforts were a bright light driving back the darkness that threatened to consume the world. But in the end, that didn't matter. Diana was yet another good person cut down by a gun, like his parents and so many others. She died alone in some random hallway and he was helpless to do anything about it. 

Bruce gently brushed back a stray piece of hair that had fallen across Diana's forehead. Her expression was beautiful and serene, like a princess from a bedtime story trapped in an eternal slumber. Except this princess would never wake or return to him. He would never hear her laugh again or hold her in his arms. The realization that the life they shared was over was like a great wave of grief that threatened to pull him under. Bruce released a slow, shuddering breath as tears blurred his vision and spilled down his cheeks. How could everything have gone so wrong? He tried to reach back in his memory to the time after The Doctor arrived. They'd tracked the evidence to its logical conclusion, to Arkham and then...nothing. Everything was blank. He didn't remember anything from that point on. Any attempt at recall was accompanied by a splitting headache. What the hell was actually going on? The entire scenario was like being trapped in a nightmare, as if his worst fears had somehow come to life. "Fear…" Bruce mumbled to himself. What had Diana said when they analyzed the formula in Tetch's notebook? The drug was a sinister combination of different drugs, but the base formula was Scarecrow's fear toxin. Was it possible that this was all some kind of horrible hallucination? He needed to know the truth. 

As if on cue, the lasso at Diana's hip began to shine with a golden glow. Was this some kind of sign from her gods or merely his own mind presenting a solution to him when he needed it most? Ultimately, Bruce decided that the source of his salvation was of little importance, at the moment. If there was a lifeline being offered to him when all hope seemed to be lost, he was fully prepared to grab it. "Please," his request bordered on begging as he reached out and closed his fingers around the gleaming cord, "show me the truth. I need to know." 

It felt like electricity shooting through his body. Bruce cried out in pain as the magic of the Lasso shattered the barrier in his mind. Memories came back to him in a rush like a movie reel on fast forward. Luthor's apartment. Standing on the rooftop under the night sky, as the air around him sparkled. And then, he was falling...staring up at the woman with the tawny curls and the lips red as blood as she gazed sadly down at the proof of what she'd done. 

The woman from the rooftop was the same one he'd just found dead: River Song. It wasn't possible. There were no more memories after that moment, as it all faded to black, which could only mean one thing. Bruce scrubbed his face with his hands, his mind reeling at the truth the Lasso had revealed to him. "It isn't real. None of this is real. I need to wake up." He knew how this worked. He was certain, now, that this was some kind of drug induced nightmare, and once a person knew that they were in a dream state, the integrity of the illusion couldn't hold. It would begin to come apart. He just had to be patient.

Bruce sat in the silence of the hallway for some time, occasionally glancing down at Diana. His realization had not yet changed anything, but he was sure that he was right. He would wake up from these horrors, and when he did, Diana would be waiting for him. Bruce didn't have faith in many things, but he had faith in her. It wasn't long before he began to see golden light that was not emanating from the Lasso filling the hallway all around him. The light moved closer and closer until the brightness was all he could see. He sat still as stone as it enveloped him completely. 

The light receded slowly to reveal a room with a high stone ceiling. It was illuminated by the soft golden glow of flickering torches that burned in simple sconces along the walls. A warm breeze caressed his skin, and he realized that instead of his suit he was wearing some kind of simple tunic. Bruce sat up slowly in bed and scanned the room. The only explanation that his mind could extrapolate that could explain his present location was far too unlikely to be believed. But Bruce refused to believe that he was trapped in yet another dream. He'd freed himself from the hold of the drug. This was real. It had to be.

Bruce pushed the soft sheets aside and moved to sit on the edge of his bed. He had no idea where anyone was, however, and the thought of wandering strange hallways searching for his party while avoiding potential dangers was all too reminiscent of the nightmare from which he had just escaped. He closed his eyes and worked to control his breathing as anxiety threatened to return. 

"Bruce?" His eyes flew open. Bruce was normally hyper aware of his environment, but under the circumstances he didn't hear anyone approach. Diana was standing only a few feet away, dressed in white robes that looked like they were pulled directly from a painting of Ancient Greece. Her black hair flowed in loose waves down her back. She was here with him, alive, and absolutely breathtaking. It was only when her forehead creased with concern that he realized he never responded to her calling his name. The truth was, now that she was here with him he wasn't really sure what to say or do. It was all  _ too _ perfect, and Bruce began to wonder if she might disappear in front of him like some kind of mirage. 

Diana's steps were slow and silent as she moved closer, until she was standing directly in front of him and when Bruce tilted his head to look up at her, her lips were curved up into a soft smile. "Is this real?" he asked. Diana knelt down and gazed deeply into his eyes. She extended her arm toward him and he felt the warmth of her hand as her palm came to rest over his heart. Just her touch seemed to draw the apprehension from his body, like poison from a wound. The relief that replaced it was overwhelming. 

There were still so many things he wanted to say to her, but damned if Bruce could find the words for any of that now. Instead, he pulled Diana into a tight embrace that she eagerly returned. It wasn't long before the visceral physical reaction that accompanied the dream state began to fade, and he was surprised at how the terror that sometimes lingered upon entering the waking world from a nightmare was soon strangely absent. And while was still elated that they were both alright, he couldn't deny that he was already feeling like himself again. Subsequently, this meant he had a lot of questions that needed answering. 

Bruce released her from his arms and sat back on the edge of the bed. He watched Diana rise from the floor and come to sit beside him. In the torchlight, she looked very much the part of the princess she'd always been. "The Doctor and Clara.." he asked, as he turned to face her,"are they alright?" He waited, sincerely hoping that Diana could shed some light on their current situation. Having gaps in his memory was not something that Bruce enjoyed in the least. "Everyone is fine. The Doctor and Clara came to our aid when River...when we were attacked. I am told that we were very ill although I also have no memory of it. When the Doctor realized that he could not treat us with the technology on his ship, he brought us to my mother. The healers here likely saved our lives." 

"I'm impressed," Bruce replied with a smirk. "When you said the Doctor fought alongside the Amazons I underestimated how significant that relationship might be. Remind me to thank him when we see him next." "It may be some time before you get the opportunity," Diana stated, matter of factly. "The Doctor left all of us in the care of my people while he travels the universe for allies. The gods have spoken to me and I believe that I now understand what Savage is planning. Bruce, it's not what we originally thought. I fear it is something  _ much _ worse."


	12. The Oncoming Storm

From the base of a large stone staircase, Antiope stood, hands on her hips, watching the new pupil given into her charge fire arrow after arrow across the courtyard where her fellow Amazons trained. Each one either hit the straw target dead center or came very close. After living for a millennia it was difficult for anything to surprise a warrior as seasoned as she, but it certainly seemed like today was a day for surprises if ever she'd had one. Antiope turned to call up the stairs towards her sister, the queen. "Hippolyta, where did you find this one?" 

The queen was slow to respond. For a moment she also watched the same strange phenomenon from her vantage point, flanked on either side by her daughter and the first man welcome on Themyscira's shores in years beyond memory. "She is a companion of The Doctor's. I had no idea…when I offered to teach her how to better defend herself against our enemies. I was unaware that she had any skill with a bow." Antiope flashed a small smile, "There is potential here, sister. Granted, she is barely strong enough to lift a sword but she is agile, and can fire an arrow better than many I have taught, in their youth. There is intelligence there, as well. I would train her in earnest if given the opportunity." The queen's expression seemed to brighten considerably at these words. "Diana," she asked, turning towards her daughter, "will you please go wait with Clara until she is finished and then bring her to me? I think your aunt may be extending her a rare opportunity for one so young." The realization of what was being proposed was not lost on Diana and she was quick to acquiesce to the request. This left only Bruce and Hippolyta upon the landing, and the awkward silence that followed. The situation was far from unexpected. 

From the moment Bruce awoke in Themyscira, in fact, such a thing seemed very likely to occur. Once he felt more himself and Diana brought him up to speed, however, a potentially unpleasant conversation with his girlfriend's mother seemed fairly low on his growing list of concerns. Diana told him of her vision and Hecate's words, and how The Doctor went to seek allies to help them enact their plan. And while John Constantine decidedly fit the bill, in terms of his unique skill set to wield Hecate's magic, Bruce had misgivings about the reliability of the warlock. There were other magic wielders he would have preferred, but ultimately Bruce trusted Diana's judgment nearly as much as his own. Her plan for defeating Savage was unusual, but if they could pull it off, it meant saving the whole of reality without bloodshed. That was certainly something that Bruce could get behind, and when he lay down beside Diana in bed that night, he fell asleep believing that they might actually be on the right track.

The following afternoon, Bruce accompanied Diana to meet her mother formally. The audience with Hippolyta was civil, and he expressed his gratitude (her aide, by all accounts, saved his and Diana's lives). They discussed The Doctor's excursion to find Constantine, and the plan which Diana previously detailed for him. Hippolyta extended the hospitality of her people to all of them until The Doctor's return, and Bruce couldn't help but feel, after all was said and done, that Diana likely learned diplomacy from her mother. The consensus of all who knew The Doctor well, the queen included, seemed to be that he would return at any moment, and they should therefore be prepared for a speedy departure.

That was three days ago. 

Not that Bruce minded staying on Themyscira for a time, in the interim. He relaxed considerably after meeting with Diana's mother for the first time and realizing that he was not, in fact, in mortal danger, despite his gender or relationship with the queen's daughter. The island itself was a beautiful land that seemed to hang, by the grace of the Gods, somewhere perpetually between spring and summer. It was so removed from the harshness of the outside world that he began to understand why some called it Paradise Island. Still, it was not a place that he could feel completely at ease. Bruce knew a confrontation was coming that had nothing to do with the fate of the world. Having no serious romantic attachment to anyone who he could imagine a future with for the entirety of his adult life, Bruce thus far escaped the dreaded conversation regarding his intentions with anyone's daughter. As he watched Diana descend the staircase, leaving him truly alone with the queen for the first time, he could only wait for the inevitable. 

"The Doctor speaks highly of you, Mr Wayne," Hippolyta noted, her eyes never leaving the area at the bottom of the steps where Diana stood. "Much of what he said, the night he came seeking the help of our healers, has shaped the events that followed. I cannot, of course, repeat what knowledge was imparted to me for fear of altering the course of events. I will say that it was for the sake of the future as well as my daughter's happiness that you were restored to health and have been set upon your course. What remains to be seen is whether you are  _ worthy _ of her affections. You understand how I might have my doubts." Hippolyta turned towards Bruce, expecting a reaction of some kind. When she received none she was almost disappointed. Anger or defensiveness would, obviously, have been received poorly as they were a sign of insecurities that should be beneath anyone who would partner with her only daughter. Teaching a lesson to such an individual would have been enjoyable, indeed, although Hippolyta never truly thought she would get the opportunity. 

The Doctor seemed to value the friendship of this man and by all accounts he seemed to be esteemed by many. He was described by those who knew him well as intelligent and brave, and he fought alongside her daughter honorably as a fellow warrior. He regarded Diana, and it would seem all of the Amazons he encountered thus far, with respect. No one was without flaws, of course, and while he was no different (Hippolyta made it a point to investigate the man Diana was living with in the course of watching over her daughter from afar) nothing egregious had come to the queen's attention. Despite any well founded judgment she held against his gender, all things considered, it was hardly sufficient grounds to condemn him. 

"I've also doubted that, myself, at times," Bruce replied with a tone that belied nothing of his emotional state, "but Diana seems to believe that I am, and in that regard her opinion is the most important one. I suppose time will tell whether her faith in me is misplaced." Hippolyta briefly regarded his words with what appeared to be an almost amused expression, and for a moment she very much resembled her daughter. "We shall see," she stated, a hint of a smile on her lips before turning away from him and towards the sound of Clara's voice on the stairs. She was approaching at a good pace, bow still in her hand. Diana was at her side. The latter, being intelligent enough to understand why her mother sent her to fetch Clara aside from the generosity she was about to extend, cast Bruce a questioning glance. He rewarded her with a small but reassuring smirk which transformed into a neutral expression so quickly once he entered the space beside her mother that Diana almost wondered if she'd imagined it. Bruce always did play things close to the vest around unfamiliar people, and this was no exception.

"Good morning Queen Hippolyta. Diana said you wished to speak with me?" Clara was slightly breathless from quickly ascending the stairs. Her short brown hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail and she seemed very much at ease in the borrowed armor of her hosts. In her hand she still clutched a simple but elegantly carved wooden bow. "That is correct," Hippolyta replied. "I am interested to know how you came by your skill at archery?" Clara only shrugged modestly. "I'm out of practice, honestly. When I was younger I took some lessons, but I'm not all that athletic. I mean, I could never become adept at half of what I've seen since I've been here. I thought it was just Diana, but all of the Amazons really live up to the legend." The queen smiled in earnest at her kind and genuine compliment. "I think you underestimate yourself, Clara. My sister Antiope feels you have potential to receive training beyond what has been offered thus far. We don't generally extend the invitation to those from man's world, but I have the oddest feeling that our paths have crossed for a reason. Perhaps it is meant to be that one day, when you have tired of traveling with The Doctor, you may choose to call this place your home." 

Diana was unable to suppress the grin that spread across her face when Clara's eyes went wide with surprise. It truly must have been that she saw something special in The Doctor's companion that was not evident to the naked eye. "Your majesty, I am beyond flattered. Just being here has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life. But The Doctor… he depends on me… and even if I wasn't traveling with him I have people back home." Hippolyta nodded. When she spoke, her voice was calm but tinged with disappointment, and the weariness of ages past, "You are young still, and there is much ahead of you. Family and friends are important and it is understandable if you do not wish to leave that behind. But I give you a word of caution, child: do not live for The Doctor. Do not spend your life following him into the fray and waste the potential the gods have given to you. He is my friend and I have known him for countless years, but you are not the first young woman with potential to waste their years on such pursuits." 

Bruce and Diana shared a glance, and within it the unspoken question of the intention behind Hippolyta's words. "With all due respect," Clara asked, somewhat taken aback by the statement, "what does that mean?" To her surprise, the queen sighed heavily. "The Doctor is an extraordinary being, to be sure, and like so many civilizations throughout time and space, The Amazons owe him a debt that is not easily repaid. There are many stories about him told by both friends and foes. Do you know what they call him in the far reaches of the galaxy? The Oncoming Storm. In truth, the moniker is well earned, and to say that he has never left destruction in his wake would be a lie. He has sacrificed much in pursuit of his mission, and sometimes the losses he's endured have included those close to him. I fear it is The Doctor's fate that the story of his long life should be a sad one, although I hope that I am mistaken. I would not wish that fate upon you, as well, Clara." 

Clara flashed a polite smile, but her usual easy posture now presented as anything but relaxed. "Thank you for your concern, but there's no need. I can manage just fine." The queen nodded in response, instinctively drawing the delicate fabric draped across her shoulders more tightly around her as a stiff wind cut though the plaza. "I have no doubt," Hippolyta replied offhandedly. All traces of worry or doubt seemed to evaporate like dew from the summer grass, and in its place, an expression as still and serene as the surface of a placid lake. "You are a woman, and a strong one. I never meant to imply otherwise, only to impart wisdom from my own experiences." Hippolyta's words seemed directed at Clara, initially, but her gaze then shifted to settle on Diana. "A woman's choices are her own," she said softly, taking Diana's hand in hers, "and she must find her way the best she can, in any world. The most important thing is to have the courage to do what is right, even if others don't agree. They are sometimes wrong...as I was, my daughter." 

Diana's smile shone like a light from within. Her joy at the prospect of true reconciliation with her mother was infectious, and even from the periphery of this touching moment between the women before him, Bruce could feel its warmth, like of the sun on his skin. The true sun, however, had slowly slipped behind the dark clouds he only now realized had blanketed the sky above them. Upon further inspection, they seemed not just to hover ominously above Themyscira, but stretch outwardly in all directions, far beyond any visible horizon. The wind was becoming stronger, and now the cold it brought with it was tangible upon his bare skin. In the courtyard below, Antiope and some of the younger Amazons training with her had laid down their weapons, their eyes upon the very same horizon. Within his current vicinity, however, Bruce was clearly the first to note the unusual phenomenon.

"Excuse me," Bruce interjected, his voice barely audible over the growing gusts, only to see that their eyes had already turned towards the skies. Queen Hippolyta walked briskly past him towards the ledge of the upper courtyard on which they stood, intently focused on the seas which grew increasingly rougher. Clara appeared just as confused as he by the sudden shift in the environment. Diana, however, seemed to wear an expression that answered the question in Bruce's mind before he even uttered a syllable. "Judging by everyone's reaction, this is something unusual," he stated, matter of factly.

Diana moved closer to stand beside him. "I can't recall any such storm in Themyscira, in my lifetime, and it is doubtful that much has changed in my absence. It is true that we are all on edge because of the events in motion, but...oh no…" Without the benefit of Diana's heightened senses, the source of her distress wasn't immediately evident to Bruce, but the sight of the snowflakes as they landed in the black cascade of her hair was soon impossible to ignore. "What sorcery is this…?" Hippolyta's voice was tinged with alarm as the squall began, in earnest. Abruptly, she gestured for everyone to move towards shelter. "How can it be snowing?" She said almost to herself as ahead shook the dampness from her robes. "Themyscira does not have seasons, by the will of the Gods themselves. This is not possible." Bruce met her gaze, and the fleeting glimpse of fear that lay behind the queen's eyes filled him with dread. "What if it was possible?" he asked, hoping the answer was anything other than the logical conclusion that occurred to him. Hippolyta's words held no such comfort. "Then something is very wrong with reality, Mr. Wayne. Themyscira is _ timeless _ . That is why the population does not age and why the seasons do not cycle. If winter is truly upon us, then time has once again begun to move, and the Gods have not or….Hera help us... _ cannot  _ intervene. I know that I urged patience earlier, but there is no other course of action. We must contact The Doctor to hasten his return."


	13. Finder of Lost Things

The T.A.R.D.I.S. touched down on the north shore of Themyscira, or at least where it should have been. Instead of the golden sand of the Mediterranean and verdant flowering hills, however, the main console screen displayed only white drifts of blowing snow. "This can't be right…" The Doctor seemed to mumble partially to himself and partially to the craft. He'd been traveling for less than a week, surely, but if this was Paradise Island, it was unrecognizable. The Doctor and Jack were already heading back to the island with their new passenger in tow when he received a rather troubling text message from Clara: Emergency. Come back ASAP. Even more disconcerting was that when he attempted to call her back for clarification, no calls would go through. Considering that the phone in her possession could be used anywhere in the known universe, Clara being in a low signal area was simply impossible. Something was wrong, and he was starting to get an idea of what that something was...which didn't make The Doctor feel better, in the least.

Jack came to stand beside him, arms crossed against his broad chest, his head cocked slightly to one side as he surveyed the scene being displayed on the screen before them. "You know, Doctor, I've got to say...your idea of paradise is _very_ different from mine." He cast his companion a sideways glance, a smirk on his lips. "This isn't funny, Jack. Themyscira is normally protected by very strong magic which shields it from things like harsh weather and keeps the seasons from changing, in the first place. There should be a magical barrier: a mist about a mile out from the shoreline. If I'm seeing this correctly…" Jack let out a slow breath, his expression now far more serious. "The magic isn't working anymore," he added, finishing the sentence left hanging in the air. The Doctor could only nod, affirming his friend's insight. "I saw them on my way to you, Jack: the fractures around the edges of the time vortex. Reality, ever so slowly becoming compromised. I knew it wasn't a matter of if we were going to see the fallout of that; it was always a matter of when. But this… I need to find Clara and the queen."

Jack clapped his hands together, jumping to action, "Okay, the wardrobe must have some winter gear. We should probably…" "We aren't going out there, Jack. I am. The sooner I meet with Queen Hippolyta and collect our traveling companions, the better. Who knows what other anomalies are popping up in the timeline as we speak, and the last thing I need is to be delayed or suffer the ire of a race of warrior women by bringing yet another strange man onto an island where men are forbidden." The Doctor watched as his friend's expression shifted from crestfallen to confused. "Another? Not important. What do you expect me to do, babysit the T.A.R.D.I.S?" The Doctor released an exasperated breath, rubbing his temples before gesturing to a nearby couch where a sandy haired man was sleeping, wrapped in his own trench coat and snoring loudly. Jack's shoulders slumped, "Doctor, you've got to be kidding me. This guy's going to be sleeping off his bender for the next _week_. He won't even know we're gone."

"Mr. Constantine wasn't thinking clearly when we found him, and who could blame him, really? But he came with us, all the same. If he hasn't roused by the time I return...well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. If he does wake, I need you to keep him calm. The last thing we need is an irrational sorcerer aboard the T.A.R.D.I.S, but we do need him if we are to put things right. Jack, please, just trust me as you always have and do as I ask." The Doctor could see that his companion wished to argue the matter further. Jack was clearly tensed for a fight, jaw set, arms crossed against his chest once more. Instead, he simply sighed and nodded curtly in defeat. "Okay," he acquiesced, begrudgingly, "but keep the line of communication open in case I have to deal with this one properly. Because you being, well...you, Doctor, I'm assuming you meant the word sorcerer literally. I'm liable to ensure a more prolonged state of unconsciousness if he wakes up and starts throwing spells that might fry the time circuits, if you get my drift." The Doctor's eyes moved to Constantine's sleeping form, and then back to Jack. "I do. Let's hope it doesn't come to that. I'll be back soon."

The Doctor was true to his word. It wasn't long before he found a heavy coat and gloves in the winter wardrobe of the T.A.R.D.I.S, and a scarf to cover his face against the biting wind. Jack thought it was a god awful rainbow striped pattern, and entirely too long for his friend, yet it seemed to somehow suit The Doctor perfectly. He headed out into the storm, and with a wave of his hand and closed the T.A.R.D.I.S doors behind him. Jack watched The Doctor disappear into a blinding cloud of swirling snowflakes to the tune of snoring in the background. When The Doctor re-emerged from the storm several hours later, he was not alone. There were three figures behind him in heavy cloaks and they were all armed, from what Jack could see. "Oh, this is going to be interesting," he noted with a grin. The sleeping man gave no reply.

The doors of the T.A.R.D.I.S opened a few moments later, revealing The Doctor and the individuals he set out to retrieve, all of whom began to remove their snow laden outer garments and drape them over nearby furniture. Two of the figures beneath the cloaks were women. One was smaller in frame and wore plain clothes, although she also held a formidable bow and a quiver of arrows. The other was decked out in full Amazonian armor, complete with shield and longsword. The man who accompanied The Doctor, far more to Jack's surprise, was well built and dressed as what appeared to be a black bat, complete with cape. The costume skirted the line between ridiculous and spooky, like something out of the urban legends they had when he spent all those years in the New York city area, back in the day. The epiphany that followed this realization was dramatic.

"Holy shit!" Jack pointed at his new traveling companion before gesturing towards The Doctor, who appeared to be a bit embarrassed. "This is the guy, isn't it? The Batman of Gotham City? Man, I heard stories about this guy in the outer boroughs. I thought you were like...the boogie man for criminals or something." Jack could almost feel the man scowling at him from beneath the mask that concealed the upper half of his face. When he extended his hand for a shake, the other man continued to survey him, standing cautiously and still as stone. "I'm sorry. I meant no disrespect. Just a big fan of your ability to scare some bad people stupid. Captain Jack Harkness, formerly of Torchwood, freelance time agent and friend of The Doctor's."

The other man seemed to consider his options, but after a moment he politely stepped forward and engaged in a firm handshake. "And you are?" Jack inquired at the silent gesture. The man withdrew his hand."My reputation precedes me, apparently," he noted, dryly, moving away from Jack to stand beside the tall Amazon in the gleaming armor. The Doctor cleared his throat. "Right… I see that you and Batman have made introductions. Captain Jack Harkness, this is my companion Clara Oswald and Princess Diana of Themyscira, also known as Wonder Woman." Both women moved towards Jack in turn and made proper introductions, which was only punctuated occasionally by loud snoring from the couch nearby.

The Doctor smiled sadly down at the sleeping man, his hands on his hips. His thoughtful expression did not escape Bruce's keen eye. "I see you found Constantine," he noted, his gaze occasionally wandering across the room to where Jack shamelessly flirted with both women in his company, "which means, by all accounts, we're on track to set history right." To his surprise, when The Doctor turned to look at him, there was something behind the older man's eyes that was dark and strangely familiar. "It's a sound plan, and probably the best chance we've got," The Doctor replied, his words less hopeful than his tone,"but we're about to dive head first into the realm of real magic, and that's something I've never been overly fond of. Magic has a price, Bruce, no matter what any priest or deity may tell you. Our friend Mr. Constantine has paid that price, many times over, and now we are not just asking him to journey into the abyss once more. We are asking him to lead us into it. I should brew a pot of coffee before I wake him. Hope the kitchen is where I left it." He then proceeded to walk away, without another word, leaving Bruce confused and disconcerted with one solitary realization: The Doctor had never been worried about their victory, at all, only the cost.

***********************

The world slowly drifted into focus, not surprisingly followed by the dull aching headache and dry mouth that accompanied an evening spent in the bottom of a Scotch bottle. First and foremost, sitting up was a terrible idea, but John Constantine was no stranger to terrible ideas, as it was. Once his eyes set on his surroundings, however, he was immediately alarmed. What the hell had he gotten himself into this time?

"Ah, you're awake!" The young fellow in the tweed Jacket announced cheerily, handing him a cup of black coffee. John vaguely remembered a pub in Newcastle and a handsome pilot with pale blue eyes who was traveling with this oddly dressed individual who barely seemed out of puberty. He'd agreed to help them with something important, but damned if he recalled what that was. John accepted the cup and drank down a mouthful of the steaming liquid greedily, praying it would clear his head a bit more. Coffee rarely disappointed, and it wasn't long before the blue eyed man's words danced in the back of John's memory "I hear you're the finder of lost things, Mr. Constantine…" He groaned internally. He'd agreed to help find something important, and judging by the company he was keeping at the moment, there was no room for error.

"Bloody hell, Bats, I thought you were dead!" John exclaimed, his eyes focused on the man, who was lurking like a spectre, nearby. He scanned the room, hoping his other suspicion was confirmed, and when it was, it nearly knocked the wind out of him. Unlike Bruce who he always fell short of being able to call a true friend, there was no such difficulty with Diana. He'd fought alongside her so many times when they were both in The League that he'd come to care for her platonically nearly as much as he'd fallen for Zatanna romantically. "I thought you both were… it's been years." Diana left the conversation she'd been part of to come sit beside him. The feeling of her taking his hand in her own and giving it a reassuring squeeze helped the shakiness that started to set in dissipate some, but it still left John with a load of unanswered questions. He wasn't dead, the god awful hangover informed him, and his prior experience with madness suggested he hadn't lost his mind. The answer, Constantine suspected, might lay somewhere in the gray area in between the two. That, however, was where he often did his best work.

"I must apologize for any confusion, John," The Doctor said from across the room. "These are the people you know, and yes they are alive and well, just not from your time. Approximately 15 years in your past, give or take a bit, to be precise. Time travel is a bit tricky." Constantine tried his best not to roll his eyes and failed miserably. "Great. So you have a problem that requires magic and time travel. Nothing I'm liable to get myself killed doing, is it...what was your name again, son?" The Doctor's eyes went so wide that Jack laughed and even Bruce cracked a smile. This day was clearly becoming more amusing by the moment, although John couldn't help but feel that he wasn't in on the joke.

"They call me The Doctor," the man in the tweed jacked replied with a hint of embarrassment, "and I'll have you know there's gears on the T.A.R.D.I.S that are quite a bit older than you. _And furthermore please do not light that in here_." John looked up from his not yet lit cigarette to see the (perhaps not so) young doctor becoming increasingly agitated. He shrugged and tucked the cigarette back into his pocket, extinguishing the magical flame in his palm by closing his hand. "Okay, mate," he replied, casually. "Your ship, your rules. So what exactly is going on here? Because in my present, these two are missing and presumed dead nearly five years past. The world went through some hard times, but The League stepped up and we came through alright. Now, maybe coincidentally, weird shit is popping up around the world that I can't puzzle out and here you lot are, asking for help. Did I leave anything out?" The stunned silence that met John, in response to his words gave him the sneaking suspicion that something bad needed to be dealt with, and they would need his help to do it. It was hell of a time not to be allowed a smoke.


	14. Days Gone By

Diana was patient. She needed to bring everyone up to speed regarding the mission, but some things could not be rushed. For example, it took a half an hour for John to fully come to his senses. It was another hour and nearly a full pot of black coffee (Bruce walked off with a cup when he thought no one was looking) before Constantine was coherent enough for The Doctor to pull him aside for a private chat. Diana wasn't trying to listen in, but her enhanced hearing did detect bits and pieces of the conversation, specifically the danger of "spoilers." The significance of the word in context, she could deduce, may have been in regard to the fact that members of their party from future times should keep knowledge of events from their time to themselves. The timeline had already suffered damage that was no doubt already impacting reality, judging by the events that unfolded on Themyscira. Corrupting it further was a poor plan, indeed. 

Once The Doctor and Constantine rejoined the group, Diana detailed the events that transpired thus far, and the plan moving forward. She could see the captain nodding along with her words in agreement. John, on the other hand, seemed less than enthusiastic about things. "There's a million ways this can go south, I hope you realize," he finally said. "Hecate's one of the old ones, but the gods are a fickle lot and they never do anything unless it benefits them. That being said, she's certainly pointed us in the direction of a weapon against Savage...if we can find it...and that's good, because we're bloody well gonna need one. I traveled with a group years ago that went up against him, and based on what they said he's a lot more powerful than you realize." 

Bruce leaned forward in his seat, clearly interested in any information that could provide an advantage against their adversary, "How so? The League has fought Savage a number of times. He's intelligent, power hungry and essentially indestructible, but that seems to be the extent of his powers. He can be captured, and it's been done before." Constantine grinned from ear to ear, in Bruce's direction, "I never thought I would see the day that  _ I  _ knew something  _ you  _ didn't. We should memorialize this moment, somehow." The glare shot in his direction was visible from behind Bruce's cowl. 

John sighed, running his fingers through his hair, "Fine. All business, apparently. So, everyone's assuming Savage found a sorcerer or witch to imbue the drug with magic, but he was never a stranger to the darker arts, himself. He just doesn't advertise the fact. Now, he's not able to operate on the same level as most magic wielders known to The League, but if he had the proper instruction manual or a powerful artifact, he would constitute a genuine threat." Diana met his eyes in a moment of realization, "If he finds the original copy of the book before we do, he could become unstoppable." Constantine nodded in agreement, "Right you are, love. There's only one thing we've got going in our favor: the book is lost to time, you said. If it's a Grimoire of one of Hecate's high priestesses, it may not just be lost in the traditional sense. It may be hidden, magically, somewhere in time. Odds are that Savage doesn't have the skill to locate it, but as it happens, I do."

It was The Doctor's turn to grin, "No doubt the reason why Diana was informed of the need to find you, John. The T.A.R.D.I.S can transport us anywhere in time and space. We simply need to be pointed in the right direction." Constantine rose from his seat, resolute but a bit unsteadily, "We need to find an occult shop for supplies. The locator spell might require a bit of finesse on my part, but the ingredients for most spells are common enough on Earth, if you know where to look. Preferably one by a drug store. This all works better  _ without  _ the hangover." 

It so happened that there were several shops that met the sorcerer's specifications in New York's East Village, approximately at the tail end of the 1980's. After a quick excursion to procure the necessary goods, John and Captain Jack returned to the T.A.R.D.I.S. The former wasted no time crafting a magical work space near the very heart of the craft itself, only stopping occasionally to chew aspirin straight from the bottle. He took a step back to survey the magic circle, realizing for the first time that several members of the traveling party were watching the whole thing come together. "Right...so, locator spells usually work best if we're all in the circle, focusing on the thing that needs finding. I'll do the heavy lifting, magic wise, but any energy I can pull from helps. The T.A.R.D.I.S needs to be parked when we do this, since I have no idea what will happen if I attempt the spell in the time vortex. Any questions?" To his surprise, it was The Doctor who chimed in. "Is the location of the circle within The T.A.R.D.I.S important?" John smiled as he knelt down to light a taper candle from the flame in his palm. "Smart man. Yeah, I may have tailored this a bit to work with the time circuits in your ship. Normally, the locator spell draws whoever is in the circle towards the person or thing being located through the circle itself. Instead, I intend to use the T.A.R.D.I.S itself as an anchor. That way, the circle magically draws the ship towards our destination and that's where we end up." 

Bruce moved slowly around the outer edge of the circle, "I've never seen technology and magic combined in the way you described. Is the approach theoretical or have you done this before?" John regarded him with a raised eyebrow as he continued to light candles. The logic was all too familiar to the Batman he knew, and yet John couldn't help but feel that this past version was somehow unfinished. It was almost as if some defining moment that would shape this man from the past into his future self hadn't yet come to pass. This, of course, John would keep to himself with a good number of other bits of future information. What had The Doctor called them? Spoilers? "Yeah, well, of course it's theoretical, Bats. I don't exactly have access to a time machine in my daily life, do I? But the locator spell I'm quite familiar with, so no worries there. Just a matter of getting all the components to play well together." 

John heard someone else approach the circle, and glanced over to see Diana watching intently as he completed the necessary preparations. "Is there anything we can do to help?" He stood, closing his palm and extinguishing the flame therein. The candles around the room flickered, their warm glow illuminating strange symbols that had been scrawled on the floor in dark chalk. "Yeah, actually. I need everyone inside the circle. We're about to begin." She nodded, and went about the task of gathering everyone in the correct area, within the ring of candles. Constantine was the last to enter the circle, and when he did, the entire perimeter and all the symbols seemed to come alive with green fire. The words that fell from his lips were foreign to all around him. Even the universal translator of the T.A.R.D.I.S could make no sense of them, leading The Doctor to wonder if it was a magical language entirely unknown to his ship. Bruce, on the other hand, suspected that like many sorcerers, Constantine was speaking the spell backwards (as Zatanna and her father often would), to make the effect more powerful. None of them had long to contemplate the possibilities, however. Within moments, the engine of the T.A.R.D.I.S began to whir and churn as it dematerialized from their stationary location, pulling them through the time vortex towards their destination. They landed somewhere unknown, rather abruptly, and the craft settled into its new time and place, growing still and silent once more. John looked around the room at his traveling companions, all of whom wore rather stunned expressions of disbelief. The magic of the circle was starting to die down but he could feel the book nearby. It was very close, indeed.

The Doctor stepped beyond the candles towards the main console of the T.A.R.D.I.S to read the display. The time and date stamp read something surprising. "We're still in New York," he informed the others, "although it appears we've moved uptown, and we've also gone back a bit. Mid 1940's by the looks of it. It would be wise to pop by the wardrobe for a change of clothes before we venture outside." Clara approached, as well, examining the screen for the outside cameras. Across the street from where the T.A.R.D.I.S had set down was a large, modern building. The sign, at street level read: Metropolitan Museum of Art. No one spoke the words, but then they really didn't need to for her to understand where this was headed. The book hadn't actually vanished from the world...at least, not yet. But when night fell, that would change. They were going to take it.

********************

Jack frequently heard the saying over his many lifetimes "They just don't make them like they used to," and in his experience, it was true for many things. For most appliances, cars, and some everyday items, this held especially true. When it came to security systems, however, not as much. They waited until it was very late before entering the museum. The alarm took only moments to disarm. Since this was many years before the museum grew to its full size and stature, there wasn't much in the way of security guards. The two gentlemen stationed at the front were enjoying a lovely nap thanks to some gas bombs from his new friend's utility belt. "We're doing this to save all of reality, remember?" Jack reminded the other man, who simply grumbled something about not enjoying being on this side of the law, and vanished into the darkness of the museum. 

"It's here," Constantine informed them from nearby. "It's in the building, for sure. I can feel the magic, but I can't tell exactly where it's coming from." The Doctor looked around as if to determine the lay of the land, and then turned back towards his companions. Bruce had already gone off on his own. Jack stationed himself at the front as a lookout, and indicated he would impersonate a guard if need be as he tucked the sleeping men behind the security desk. He even borrowed one of their hats for good measure, should he need to look the part 

"Right," The Doctor noted, "so it would appear we need to split up to cover more ground. John, you're with me. Diana, with Clara. Call if you find anything and we'll do the same. As for the book...well, I have a feeling you'll know it when you see it." Without a further word, he turned and walked into the darkness, the sorcerer by his side. Diana gestured for Clara to follow and they did the same. Once in the darkness of the corridor, she unclipped something from her belt and held it up to light their way. The lasso of Hestia emitted a warm glow, basking the unfamiliar shadows in the radiant golden light of truth. Any apprehension in Clara's heart seemed to melt away, and she felt strangely at ease. 

The hallway emptied into a room of art and antiques from foreign lands. Diana's eyes drifted around the room, taking in the beauty of tapestries and pottery from days gone by. She was so much older than much of the art that surrounded them. Other items seemed to predate even her, and almost reminded her of home. "Some of this pottery looks like it would be at home on Themyscira," Clara noted, almost as if she had read Diana's thoughts. "That it does. I'm very impressed by the collection." There was a pause in the conversation as they searched the room, and then the younger woman broke the silence. "I'm sorry if I was rude to your mother. She was very hospitable and even invited me to return to Themyscira one day, so I don't think she's angry with me. But I just wanted to say that if I was disrespectful, I hope you'll forgive me. What she said about The Doctor… I dunno, I guess it struck a nerve or something." 

Diana turned in her direction, a soft smile on her lips. In the glow of the lasso she looked ethereal… a living portrait of the goddess Clara knew her to be. "I've worked in a few museums, you know. Mostly antiquities since, well, I have a bit of a background in that. Some of the things I've come across, over the years, have almost as much personality as people." Diana moved in her direction, motioning for Clara to join her by a dimly lit display case. "Take this, for example," she said, pointing towards what looked like a restored plate. "It's called Kintsugi. The ancient art of repairing broken stoneware with gold or silver, with the belief that the finished product is stronger and more beautiful than it was before. Many people are this way, you know. They have flaws. They may even be broken in some way. But that doesn't mean they can't overcome adversity to be even stronger than they were before. And it certainly doesn't mean they aren't worth loving." Clara moved closer to the case, truly appreciating the fine golden veins that ran through the ceramic before her for the first time,"This sounds like you may be speaking from experience." Diana's laughter was melodic, and Clara couldn't help but think it made her even more captivating. "It does seem that way, doesn't it?" she replied, tucking a dark curl behind her ear, just the hint of a smirk on her lips. Clara understood the deeper meaning of the words, but wasn't sure if Diana was referring to The Doctor or someone else, entirely. It was The Doctor's voice that interrupted her pondering, however, via the team's shared communicators, "We found it! We're in the rear display of Greek and Roman art. Meet us there." 

Diana and Clara convened on The Doctor's location around the same time as Bruce. They all arrived to see John holding a large leather-bound book. "This is it: The Book of the Crossroads...the Grimoire of Hecate's followers," John announced, practically giddy with their success. "Listen, I know what I said earlier but honestly, I can't believe we actually got this far." From the shadows behind The Doctor, a strange sound echoed in the darkness of the hallway, like a futuristic gun powering up. "I, for one, never lost faith," a woman's voice replied from the same direction, its cheery tone mitigated by a chilly quality that was decidedly unfriendly. 

The Doctor watched several of his companions assume a defensive stance against the inevitable. There wasn't a doubt in his mind, of course, that the sights of the gun were pointed at him, or who was on the other end of it, as the footsteps mover closer. He turned to face what would either be his salvation or his doom. Funny how often those two things were just opposite sides of the same coin. River stepped into the light, her lips red as rubies as she smiled and raised the gun. "Hello, sweetie…"


	15. River Song

Most nights, River slept like the dead and woke from a REM cycle blessedly absent of dreams. When she did happen to recall them, however, they were often a jumble of images and emotions. Her mother's red hair and insurmountable courage. Her father's kindness. Madam Kavarian with her eyepatch and sinister smile that always bordered on a sneer. The Doctor kissing her under the stars.

The occupational hazards of being a time traveler often meant the past, present and future got mashed together in one's mind. Of course, it didn't help that River had been mind controlled loads of times, not just by Savage but during her cultish upbringing. Additionally, her memories were not entirely reliable, both due to the aforementioned tinkering with her gray matter and also the henchmen employed by her childhood kidnapper. She remembered The Silence only in name, and even then, primarily through second hand accounts and what limited information she'd found in books. For the life of her, River couldn't describe them, except to say they were alien. Historical records indicated they were employed by religious orders in the far future to aid with confession. When their services were corrupted by zealots, however, they became something far worse: the thieves of memory. And while she couldn't remember their faces or even how they made her feel, River often suspected that (could she recall them) they might be the stuff of nightmares. 

These days, however, even nightmares would be preferable to sleeping with one eye open. River was well aware of the consequences of betraying Savage, and by now he'd surely discovered she was no longer under his influence. Regardless of any fondness he may have held towards her, Savage wouldn't just accept her sudden disappearance from his employ or her refusal to follow his orders to eliminate Luthor. It was a dangerous situation and only a matter of time before he found her. She could handle herself, of course, but living life looking over your shoulder was a lot of stress and very little fun. River would know; after all, she'd done it before.

The cold hard truth was things would be so much better if Savage was gone, not just for her but the entire world. The more River thought about it, in fact, the matter became less about  _ if  _ she should kill him and more about  _ how.  _ The Doctor's friends… the supposed heroes… well, they forced her hand long before she was ready, driving her to run prior to completing some very necessary research on her newest enemy. In her anger she declared that she would have her revenge on Savage, and the statement had not technically been a lie. River knew she would get a particular satisfaction in eradicating such a cruel and heartless being from existence, though she now also realized that joy was secondary to the importance of keeping him from bringing his monstrous plans to fruition.

Now, as she moved quietly through a museum, in the not too distant past, River was not at all surprised that the search for the object that might help her attain her goal would bring her back to The Doctor. Their lives had always been intertwined, it seemed, even before her birth. When River was younger, the idea seemed terribly romantic, like they were twin souls made for each other. As she got older, however, all evidence pointed to a life that would only end in tragedy. Since the journey had always held more meaning to her than the destination, however, that was of little matter. But she couldn't help but wonder, after all they'd been through together, would he join her on this new journey or attempt to return her to Storm Cage? The doubt that lingered in the back of her mind was mitigated by a single certainty that River still believed with every fiber of her being: the universe had a plan for her, and it wasn't done with her yet.

The Doctor was not alone in his travels, as was often the case, but the number of companions he seemed to be traveling with these days bordered on excessive. River was well aware that she currently had two options for reaching her long term goal: join up with whatever eclectic group he'd assembled this time around, or take the object that was undoubtedly now in their possession by force. Whatever the outcome, River was armed for aggressive negotiations.

Unfamiliar faces littered the periphery of the room...a pretty young archer...an untidy man wearing a crumpled tan trench coat...and on either side of him, two individuals who were all too familiar: the heroes she'd left for dead. She cursed the situation, internally, and drew her blaster. Maybe, for some, peace was never truly an option.

The man in the trenchcoat held up a leather-bound book for all to see. "This is it: The Book of the Crossroads...the Grimoire of Hecate's followers," he announced, in an excited voice. "Listen, I know what I said earlier but honestly, I can't believe we actually got this far." River emerged from the shadows behind The Doctor, her blaster coming to full power as she raised it in front of her. "I, for one, never lost faith." The faces of those around her registered surprise, even as they prepared for action. The Doctor, on the other hand, turned slowly to face her. Despite all the anger she'd felt towards him in recent weeks, she couldn't deny that her heart beat still quickened at the sight of him. Ultimately, even when she thought she hated this man of hers, she still loved him. River felt the corners of her lips turn upwards as The Doctor met her gaze. "Hello, sweetie," she stated, keeping him in the sights of her gun. 

His expression was less than pleased, and the likely cause was no mystery. The Doctor hated guns, as she was well aware, and while he looked the other way in the past when she'd dispatched one of their mutual enemies, the weapon in her hand had never set its mark on him. Until now, that is. His voice was much more even than she would have expected,"River...there's no need for violence. You're among friends, I promise you." Her eyes drifted over towards the individuals who The Doctor was undoubtedly referencing. The Amazon had not yet drawn her sword, but gripped the handle so tightly that her knuckles were pale against the steel beneath them. Not far from her, the archer's bow string was taut, an arrow pointed at River's heart. The man dressed like a lurking phantom was attempting to blend into the nearby darkness to better catch her unaware, and she wondered if the eye holes of his cowl narrowing with contempt was merely a trick of the light. Only the fellow in the trench coat had not moved, his poker face intact as he stood holding the book. She wondered if he had any clue how powerful it really was.

River cocked her head to the side, the laugh that bubbled up from inside of her more mocking than amused. "Friends? Now, you see… I doubt that  _ very  _ much. Don't misunderstand, it would be nice if we  _ could _ work together. We have a common enemy that needs to be dealt with properly, and he wouldn't stand a chance against all of us united. The problem is there's a history between me and some of your new companions, and it isn't a very good one. I'm just not certain your warrior princess and her pointy eared boyfriend won't hold a grudge. You understand my dilemma." 

The Doctor was silent, weighing his words carefully to avoid escalating things further. And then, unexpectedly, the man with the book began to walk towards her. He was in no way threatening as he advanced, and yet he was coming closer clutching the heavy volume even closer to his chest. "You don't want to do that, love." He then muttered something she couldn't understand...words in a strange language that made her ears ring. Instinctively, River shifted her stance to poing the blaster at him, only to realize that she was now holding a bouquet of flowers instead of a gun. 

"What the hell…?!" she pulled her hand back as if she were burned, letting the delicate blossoms scatter on the polished floor. The Doctor came to stand beside her and reassuringly took her hand in his. "I told you that you're among friends, River. It would have been far easier for John, here, to transform you than the gun. He could have cursed you or opened a hell portal at any time. But as you said, we stand a far better chance fighting Savage together than fighting each other." River sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping. It was unbelievably annoying how right he was, but she was at an enormous disadvantage. The grimoire's full potential could only be unlocked by magic, a skill she sorely lacked. 

"Alright," River reluctantly acquiesced, "if no one is set on murdering me, and we all intend to present a united front...what's the plan? I know you have one, Doctor." To this, The Doctor smiled with all the excitement of a child on Christmas Day, "As a matter of fact,  _ we _ do."

*************************

The sound of the T.A.R.D.I.S meant different things to different people. To some it signified the sound of rescue; to others, it meant the endless horizon and a universe wide open, full of new faces and grand adventures yet to come. For River Song, the jarring sound of the craft as it dematerialized into the time vortex with everyone safely aboard, it was the sound of home. Of course, things were much altered since her last voyage through the stars. 

The Doctor had a new companion, and much to River's surprise, it was the pretty young archer from the museum, who introduced herself as Clara. The girl was clever and strong, and it amused River that she didn't put up with any of The Doctor's usual nonsense. She was glad that The Doctor was traveling with someone like Clara, and yet… River couldn't help the sadness that overcame her as she watched the sweetness of their friendship.

"You okay?" asked a voice behind her. River glanced over her shoulder to see the sorcerer, who was no longer wearing his trenchcoat, leaning casually in the doorway. "I'm fine. I'm always fine," she replied, dryly. His incredulous chuckle gave every indication that it would be far easier to lie to herself than whoever this man was. River sighed. "It's okay, really. It's just… it's a reminder that my time with The Doctor is drawing to a close, and all the wonderful times he's going to have without me. But I guess everyone moves on eventually, don't they? Just a part of life." He shrugged, popping a cigarette between his lips and lighting it with a magical flame that sprung from the palm of his hand. "I suppose that's supposed to be the way of things, but I've always been bloody awful at it. Aren't you going to remind me I'm not allowed to smoke in here, or is that just something you're old fella goes on about?" 

Now it was Rivers' turn to laugh. "If only you knew how many times the T.A.R.D.I.S has literally been on fire, you might understand his worry a bit more, but no. I won't be getting upset over a smoke. We've all got bigger worries, now, mister…?" He put out the flame and extended his hand to shake hers. His grip was firm, and his palm was still very warm. "Constantine," he replied as the cigarette bounced between his lips. "John Constantine. Warlock. Friend of The Doctor and some of the good folks, here. Enemy to… well, quite a few people on Earth and some darker places you might not want to discuss. At your service, Ms. Song." River felt the corners of her lips turning upwards, despite the bittersweet tone of the conversation. She liked this one very much and thought herself lucky to be counted as one of his friends (especially after The Doctor's offhand comment about hell portals, earlier). "Is that so, Mr. Constantine?" she inquired with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled low in his throat and took a deep drag off his cigarette. "Figure of speech. Although, I can't help the sneaking suspicion that you're about to ask me to do something I might live to regret." 

To this comment, River only shrugged innocently. "I would never ask anything of the sort. But I would ask someone with your talents to use those abilities to help me deliver some justice to someone who  _ really  _ deserves it. You might even enjoy the experience." Constantine cast her a sideways glance, "I'm listening." River stepped closer, her arm crossed against her chest. "Savage can't be killed unless he's made mortal, and I think the Grimoire is the key to that. Hecate's followers wielded the primordial energy of the universe: ancient life magic that Savage never realized to be the source of his powers. If those powers were rendered inert somehow, he would be vulnerable to attack." The tip of Constantine's cigarette glowed orange as he took a long, thoughtful drag. "The Doctor said Hecate, herself, wanted us to use the book against Savage. There must be a ritual in the Grimoire that she knew we would need to defeat him. Hell, maybe she foresaw all of this, even you figuring out how to kill him." 

Now it was River who leaned backwards to rest her spine against the opposite arch of the door frame. The only certainty in her mind was that Savage needed to die; she told herself this was what must be done, no matter the cost. "Shit," Constantine said almost to himself, "I wonder who's going to be more pissed at this, The Doctor or Batman?" River paused, organizing her thoughts, carefully choosing the words that she would need to address everyone aboard and explain why their future course of action must be resolute and unforgiving. "Don't worry, John. I'll talk to them. They can direct their anger at me, if they like, but it won't change anything. After all, who are we to ignore the will of the Gods?"


	16. The Hand of Justice

Down a long corridor, just past the library and a stone's throw from a small indoor pool, lay some of the T.A.R.D.I.S's living quarters. At least, that's where they were, today. The Doctor, of course, could customize and relocate rooms at his leisure. Time Lord technology afforded him that privilege. And if he'd learned anything over decades of traveling with various companions, it was this: couples wanted their privacy. They needed time alone to talk, sometimes to argue, and often to do all of the other things that couples did behind closed doors.

It seemed only logical to The Doctor, therefore, that Bruce and Diana would want the room he'd allocated for them to be set apart from the others. He was certain, in fact, that after the plethora of intelligence River shared with them regarding Savage and the obstacles in their path, that his friends would at least want to discuss the events of the day in private. He was, on this account, mistaken.

"You're quiet." Diana's voice drifted across the room to Bruce, who was still in the process of removing his cape and cowl. Diana had already stripped off her armor and piled it neatly on a nearby chair beside her sword and shield. She shifted her weight on the large bed to tuck her bare legs beneath her. Bruce turned his back to her and continued to undress. 

Even with no makeup and lounging in the worn, oversized tee shirt she clearly intended to sleep in, Diana was stunning. After the events of recent days and the effects of Tetch's drug, Bruce realized that he loved Diana more than he'd ever thought possible, and having the opportunity to show her the extent of that passion hadn't left his thoughts. But now that the opportunity presented itself and they were finally alone together, he couldn't help but feel that losing himself in the feeling of her soft skin against his might also mean losing focus on what lay ahead. 

This, of course, was something Bruce could not afford to do. As it was, he was torn between developing contingency plans to address the new obstacles in their path and weighing the need to engage in what The Doctor had advised his companions to do as soon as possible: get some rest. This might, he informed them, be the last chance they got to sleep for some time.

The Doctor, who Bruce suspected  _ never _ slept, was working with River to locate Savage in the timeline. How long that would take was anyone's guess, but once it happened, they would have to hit the ground running. The problem was, he wasn't sure they were prepared to face what was coming, and they needed to be. Certainly, numbers and power were in their favor, but Savage was clever. He'd eluded them before, and if Constantine was correct, he had ability beyond what much of the League had even witnessed. Bruce believed The Doctor was confident about their assets, but would it be enough? He wasn't so sure. 

"Was I ever all that talkative?" Bruce asked, emerging from the small walk-in closet where he'd left his gear. Diana only shrugged as he came to sit beside her. "No, but even for you… You haven't said a word since we left the others." Bruce leaned forward from his perch on the edge of the bed to rest his elbows on his knees, and ran his fingers through his short dark hair, damp with sweat (as it often was from wearing the cowl for so long). "I thought I said quite enough, back there. Don't you?" Diana sighed and leaned back in the bed, coming to rest on her elbow. "You voiced your concerns, that's true. The situation is far more...complex...than we anticipated." 

Bruce laughed, softly, but there was no joy in the sound. Complex was a vast understatement. When The Doctor convened everyone to coordinate their plan moving forward, even he was blindsided by the information that River was able to provide. As they suspected, Savage's plan was a power play. What they failed to realize, was the convoluted nature of the lengths he would go to in order to obtain and legitimize that power.

"You must understand," River informed them, "that Savage is very paranoid about disclosing the entirety of his endeavors to anyone. Even those in his inner circle only knew snippets of information, so they couldn't betray him. Unfortunately this means that there's going to be gaps in what I can tell you, even with my memory now intact." The Doctor stood beside her as she spoke, his expression more intense than they had ever seen. "You were privy to more than most, though, due to the...nature of your relationship?" River's eyes met The Doctor's for only a brief second and then flitted away to avoid the pained look she found there. "Um, yes. He was prone to boasting about certain things. The drug that he commissioned? He was particularly proud of it, and the potential for its application." Bruce recalled how she'd paused, abruptly, and then directed her words to Diana and himself, "I am sorry for what happened. For what I did to both of you. I was desperate to get away but that is no excuse." When neither of them said a word in response, however, she continued speaking as if the disclosure had never been uttered.

River described the nature of the drug as similar to what was found in Tetch's notebook. However, she informed them, Savage had no intention of releasing it in a weaponized fashion. Instead, he meant to dilute it and distribute it as a street drug, causing an epidemic. "I don't understand why anyone would pay money to feel like that," Bruce interjected, in response. "The effect is horrible." She smiled, sadly, at his words, her expression laced with something that almost resembled pity, "Except...it isn't horrible for everyone. It's subjective. It brings the inner parts of your mind to life, from what I'm told. Like the next level of very lucid dreaming, which can be terrifying or exhilarating, depending on who you are and how you think. It can be difficult to shake off, though, and for some the high will be dangerously addictive. Undoubtedly, it will claim lives, but that was a factor that never troubled Savage."

"But what is the purpose of starting a drug epidemic?" The Doctor pondered aloud. "Profit? From what I've read Savage has historically been a wealthy man. Even after the government of Kaznia seized the bulk of his assets, he never wanted for anything. He desires power, as you said, but is that all? And to what ends? Surely people will realize what he's doing. He's not exactly  _ subtle _ ." 

In the periphery, Constantine exuded a low chuckle. "They may, but try proving it. He's starting an epidemic with a drug he can use to make a population more susceptible to mind control. It can't be traced back to him because it's a street drug and no one looks too closely at a bunch of addicts. His target population is expendable, am I right?" River nodded in agreement. "You are, but it's worse than that. He's going to get himself in a position of authority so he can swoop in like a savior to help the populace. By then, of course, Savage will have his hooks into so many people that no one will be able to go against him. He could summon an army before anyone becomes the wiser, and he needs to be stopped  _ for good _ before he gets to that point."

River's words blared in the back of Bruce's mind like an air raid siren; their meaning was unmistakable. She told them, that night on the rooftop, that she would have her revenge on Savage for his crimes against her. Now, the gauntlet was thrown down, plain as day for all to see. "River," Bruce heard himself saying as he attempted to process all the thoughts racing through his mind, in that moment, "I know Savage has done terrible things, and by your account he plans to do much worse. We need to stop him and everything he's doing before there's no future for anyone, but unless we find a way to do that without killing him, we're no better than he is. No matter what's happened in the past, this is about so much more than vengeance, now." 

The response to their clashing of opinions was, of course, mixed. Jack Harkness, who was an immortal time agent that actually fought in and lived through World War II, didn't think much of their enemy's time in the Third Reich; he ultimately agreed with River and recognized Savage as a threat that needed to be eliminated, but would (of course) defer to The Doctor's wishes in how he handled the situation. "After all," he noted with a wink, mostly directed towards The Doctor, "you didn't bring me along for my pretty face."

Clara seemed most blindsided by their conversation, and after the initial shock wore off, stated in no uncertain terms that she was on the side of life. "We're not killers. There's got to be a way of capturing Savage and throwing him in space jail somewhere or something. Doctor? Tell them that we shouldn't even be discussing this because we don't just  _ murder  _ people." From The Doctor's place beside River, he took in all sides of the argument silently, weighing his words with care before speaking. "You're right, Clara. We don't just murder people. People deserve mercy even if they aren't merciful, themselves. Savage should stand trial for his crimes. Now, whether that's before a court or the gods themselves, who's to say? Hecate has given us a tool to fight him, but it has occurred to me that she may have plans for old Vandal beyond what she detailed to Diana. Deities are notoriously unpredictable entities, and their magic equally so. Once John enacts the spell, it's anyone's guess what will happen." 

River's lips were pursed in a thin line. The cold rage in her eyes seemed to make them glow brighter, "We  _ cannot  _ rely on divine intervention. Reality will collapse upon itself unless we repair the damage Savage has done, from what you've told me. How far do we intend to let him go? Doctor, you remember what happened the last time someone tried to alter a fixed point in history." 

Much to her surprise, the Doctor's mood seemed to rapidly shift and she found herself face to face with a mirror of her own anger. " _ Don't you think I know that?" _ The Doctor seemed to realize the nature of his outburst by the looks on his companions' faces, and subsequently sat down to collect himself. When he spoke again, he was much calmer. "Strange weather patterns on the shores of Themyscira. People in the future seemingly disappearing from history. Anomalies in the time vortex, itself. Savage has already done more damage than you know, River. I am well aware of what we need to do, but the how of defeating his plans isn't as simple as charging into the fray. If we do not take the time to do this properly, we have no chance of bringing Savage to justice or restoring the timeline."

Bruce wasn't sure if it was The Doctor's anger or his logic that abated River's desire for blood, but for the time being, no further mention of vengeance was made. Instead, planning and strategy seemed to take center stage in the discussion. The Doctor and River both agreed that locating Savage in time and space was priority number one. From there, Diana proposed the next step should be reconnaissance. They needed to know the movements of Savage and anyone that he was working with, whenever in time he might be. This would be especially essential if the magic from the Grimoire didn't work entirely as they anticipated, since the outcome of that was (as The Doctor, himself, stated) unpredictable. 

Bruce was quick to question River on information about the Legion of Doom, since anyone accompanying Savage on his jaunt through history may have been recruited while they were members. "My goodness," River mused, while pondering the scope of Savage's influence on the Legion, "there were quite a few interesting people I met there. No one you'd want to strike up a friendship with, mind you. And some were strange even by my standards, which is really saying something." She elaborated that some members of the Legion were more impressed by Savage than others, and he eventually amassed a small group of loyal followers, under the radar. The Mad Hatter was the first, then Cheetah and Scarecrow. Over time, however, Dr. Crane became too much of a liability due to his sometimes erratic and unstable behavior, and he was cut out of Savage's plans once the formula for his fear toxin was purloined. Cheetah, as they all knew, met an unfortunate end, and River was reticent to even discuss the subject. "There were others who were interested," River informed Bruce, "but Savage didn't trust a single one enough to bring them on board. Now that I'm not around to watch his back, however, I wouldn't put it past him to hire mercenaries or armed bodyguards to do just that. In which case, it's a good thing that most of us are no stranger to a fight, because we're headed for one." 

Warnings aside, the thought of a small army as Savage's chosen muscle was still preferable to what Bruce's imagination conjured up prior to his conversation with River. Soldiers, no matter how well armed, were predictable. Their actions, far easier to anticipate than a wildcard like Solomon Grundy or Bane. Even so, if it came to a conflict, they would need more on their side than magic. Bruce suspected The Doctor knew this, since the day he set his T.A.R.D.I.S. down in the garden of Wayne Manor. The days before The Doctor's arrival seemed like a lifetime ago, now, though Bruce's rational mind told him the duration was otherwise. Still, what he wouldn't give to go back to that time, and the serene joys it held.

In the silence of their temporary living quarters, Bruce was aware that Diana said something to him, and was slightly embarrassed to realize that he hadn't remotely been paying attention to a single syllable. For a moment, he contemplated playing along as if he had, in fact, been listening. Diana's posture and the tilt of her head as she regarded him, however, signaled that this was a folly to pursue at his own risk. 

"Sorry. I missed what you said. I'm having difficulty slowing down my thoughts," he admitted. "I know The Doctor is confident in our ability to defeat Savage, but I'm not comfortable leaving anything to chance." Diana's shoulders relaxed and her momentary annoyance seemed to drain from her. "From you, I would expect no less," she replied, sitting up and moving closer to him on the bed. "And… I'm sorry, as well, for not being more vocal myself, earlier. I was reluctant to say too much as it only would have escalated matters, and cooler heads need to prevail if we are all to work together."

It occurred to Bruce that while Diana's words resonated with him, all she didn't say was far more telling of her state of mind. "You don't think we should leave Savage alive," he stated bluntly, straightening his posture before he met her eyes. "You agree with River." In the silence that hung between them Bruce knew he spoke the truth, though it stung all the same. Diana was, at her heart, a warrior and a champion of justice, and while their enemy was hardly an apocalyptic force, his cavalier manipulation of history had transformed his selfish actions into something more than a desire for domination. He was now a threat to everyone and everything, whether he knew or intended it, and that was not a risk Diana would take. If it came down to it, he knew her recourse as well as he knew himself. She wouldn't see eye to eye on showing him mercy, if the threat was not fully abated, regardless of The Doctor's feelings on the matter or Bruce's argument.

"I agree with both of you, Bruce. This is a matter of justice, not vengeance, and contrary to how some may reason, I am aware of the difference. I have faith in the Gods and our team to set things right. In my heart, I do not believe Hecate would lead us astray. But if we are put in a position where we must choose between the fate of the universe and one cruel soul who should have died long ago...then, for me, that is hardly a contest. And I hope it doesn't come to that. Truly, I do. No one would be happier than me if we were able to resolve everything by using the Grimoire to defeat and subdue our enemies without spilling blood. Should it be necessary, however, I  _ will  _ do what needs to be done."

It occurred to Bruce that while there had been a multitude of occasions in his life where he tactically chose to remain silent, there were very few where he was at a loss for words. This was undoubtedly of those times. He knew that Diana wasn't behaving out of character. If he was honest with himself, Bruce recognized that she had always balanced love and compassion for mankind with a decisive will to protect it. She was fueled not just by strength of muscle and sinew but of her resolute and unfaltering faith. He fell in love with her not despite these facts but because of them. Now, however, Bruce wasn't sure how to feel about what she was proposing. 

Diana had given the matter ample consideration. She would act without the desire for forgiveness or permission, and if she was determined that the cause warranted the action, she would face the consequences as any warrior would: with honor and without compromise. And while The League had a very strong code of ethics against killing (only second in measure to Bruce's own), the increasing gravity of their current predicament compounded with the threat to her own people may have forced Diana into a position where she felt like it was her responsibility to be the hand of justice. Bruce understood why she might feel this way, having taken his own oath to protect the innocent. All things considered, however, the knowledge of what means she would employ to reach those ends left him more than a bit conflicted. 

Bruce rose from the bed abruptly, mumbling something vaguely concerning the need for them to get some rest. The last thing he saw before flicking the light switch and plunging the room into darkness was the hurt and surprise that washed across Diana's face. He knew that she had spoken the truth of her heart and asked only understanding, but on this subject he just couldn't meet her challenge. 

The room was unnaturally quiet as he lay down beside her. As his eyes adjusted to the specific darkness of the windowless room, Bruce became aware that Diana was close enough to touch, but all things considered, it felt like there was an ocean between them. "We'll figure something out," he finally uttered, unable to bear the silence between them any longer. "We'll find a way. There's always another way." Bruce closed his eyes and listened to Diana release a slow, thoughtful breath. "And if there's not?" The words seemed to hang in the air, waiting for a response that never came. They were at an impasse, and no matter how much they loved each other, Bruce knew that some beliefs were too different to be easily reconciled. The ramifications of this knowledge weighed heavily upon him until he fell into an uneasy slumber.


	17. Stolen Things

Someone once said the days are long but the years are short. Diana was inclined to disagree with the sentiment, no matter how well intentioned. For her, decades sometimes passed in the blink of an eye, and it hadn't been far into the life she'd made for herself in man's world when one thing became abundantly clear: eventually, all of the things around her would fade, while she remained unchanged. 

At first, the sadness that followed her realization was overwhelming. Diana had always fought for what was right. Whenever she was needed to hold that line, she never once backed down. But the passage of time was an enemy that even she could not fight, no matter how much time stole from her. After much prayer and meditation, however, Diana reached a decision that did not come lightly. She would find a way to take the bitter with the sweet, to fulfill the mission of the Amazons and also find her own happiness. And while it sometimes lessened the joy she experienced in her daily life, Diana strived to fulfill the promises she made to the world and herself, confident that her chosen course was the correct one.

Now, Diana found that her path was somewhat less clear. She knew that if The Doctor failed, the strength of her steel and her convictions might be the last remaining defense between the world she loved and a great wave of darkness that threatened to swallow all of reality. Both The Doctor and Bruce urged a course that did not so closely resemble her warrior upbringing, but with both time and options running thin, they were hardly in a position to argue the point. Deep down, they had to know where her priorities lay. Diana would protect this world and everyone in it, no matter the consequence to herself. She could only pray the will of the gods was with them.

Diana glanced across the main chamber of The T.A.R.D.I.S to see Bruce engaged in conversation with The Doctor. The information that was gathered during the past several hours was enlightening, but hardly sufficient to nail down Savage or anyone in his circle. This, of course, was not the news they'd been expecting after what was essentially a lengthy nap, and did little to lessen the increasingly tense atmosphere aboard the ship. From the vicinity of the console, fragmented words reached her ears. "...the artron energy signature is the same, yes….cloned the technology from River's vortex manipulator...no I can't lock onto it...well, he's galavanting through history….I would like to see  _ you  _ do better…"

Diana moved closer, entering the space where the otherwise civil discourse risked devolving into an argument. "I couldn't help but overhear what you were saying," she interjected, a disarming smile on her face. "Perhaps I can offer an outside perspective? Sometimes that is helpful when a solution isn't obvious." It did not escape Diana's keen eye that, at her words,The Doctor's posture relaxed considerably. He explained their dilemma. The good news was they were able to track a similar energy signature to the one River was using, as Savage employed cloned technology for time travel. The bad news was that those trails led off tangentially throughout history, for no obvious reason, and seemed to dead end with no sign of their target, at all points.

"Savage has been alive for thousands of years, "Diana replied, shaking her head in exasperation. "He's even older than I, and well equipped to conduct himself without reliance on technology, if he so desires. It is likely that he could operate off the grid, entirely." The Doctor paced back and forth, buzzing with nervous energy. "Very old and using future tech to travel, but not reliant upon it in daily life. That  _ will  _ make him hard to track. Also, he could be using magic to conceal his presence in history, much like Constantine did…" The Doctor's words seemed to be spoken mostly to himself and partially to those in his immediate vicinity. "Can we find him the same way you tracked down Constantine?" Bruce inquired. "I already tried," Jack Harkness answered from his seat nearby, looking up from the electronic device in his hand. "Vandal Savage has used so many aliases over the years that even Torchwood and The Time Agency couldn't get a bead on him. He's hiding somewhere in plain sight, and yes...probably using magic to make his presence something that won't be obvious." 

At the word 'magic', Diana glanced in the direction of Constantine, who was engrossed in the pages of Hecate's Grimoire. "John, is there any way you can find Savage using a locator spell? It was very effective in finding the Grimoire." John closed the rather large tome and set it down on the table in front of him before rising from his seat. "I wish it was that simple," Constantine said, barely stifling a yawn as he walked slowly towards the group, "but if you're having this much of a time finding one geezer, then he doesn't want to be found. I know a thing or two about that, and by the time I could circumvent his magic...well he could already have popped off to the next place, leaving us at square one." 

Bruce stepped closer to the monitor, his eyes poring over the information that streamed across the screen. "We don't have that kind of time," he stated, matter of factly, "so instead of relying on magic and energy scans, let's look at the evidence. What do we know about the places that Savage visited in time? They seem to be leads that go nowhere, but aside from that, did The T.A.R.D.I.S computer find any commonalities in what occurred during those times?" Now, it was The Doctor's turn to stare intently at the information laid out before them. Batman was often referred to as the world's greatest detective, and with that came an ability to see patterns in things that the average person could not readily discern. Might it be possible for an ordinary human man to spot a connection between events that even The T.A.R.D.I.S might gloss over?

"He could be committing crimes but almost all of the visits were in large cities, so crime is fairly common and sifting through noteworthy events would be like finding a needle in a haystack. No, that's not accurate. More like finding a needle in a stack of other needles…" "Maybe not," River countered, her face registering surprise when several people abruptly turned to look in her direction. "I mean, I wasn't privy to everything that Savage did, but I know in order to make his enterprise work he needed money and materials to make the drug. And he was trying his damndest not to attract the attention of The Justice League. Finding what he needed in time and space would be a clever idea, and hard to trace. As Batman said...we need to look for seemingly unrelated things that are actually connected."

"Tetch's notebook has the formula for the toxin. If we cross reference the list of ingredients that he would need to create it on a large scale with the artron energy that The T.A.R.D.I.S detected, I would say there's a high probability of finding a correlation that could help us create a map of Savage's activities." Diana couldn't help but feel a small glimmer of hope at Bruce's words. "Perhaps, by process of elimination we might even discern his location," she interjected, a slight smile threatening to form on her lips as her eyes met his. "I think it's very likely," he replied, and although his tone bordered on curt, the words themselves were cautiously optimistic. 

A detailed examination of the evidence lent further credence to their theory. The robbery of a factory in Berlin in 1977 revealed that despite the presence of some valuables, the only items stolen were off a manufacturing line that produced prescription grade medications. Clara glanced between the script in Tetch's notebook and the T.A.R.D.I.S screen. "That's most of the ingredients for fear toxin," she informed them, earning nods of acknowledgement from several members of the group. The Doctor jotted down the new found information on a piece of paper and stuck it to a nearby board that he'd thrown together to display their findings. If they laid everything out, he was certain it would point the way to Savage.

It wasn't long before the board began to fill up with more notes. A mysterious fire at a Los Angeles compounding pharmacy in 1992. Two laboratories missing equipment just five years later on the campus of Harvard Medical School. The pieces began to come together, although there were still some spots on their makeshift map that made no sense. The strongest, and therefore most recent energy signature seemed to originate in Virginia, not far from Washington DC, in the late 1980's. No matter how much they searched, however, additional clues did not become more apparent. Several members of the team debated investigating the area in person when River and Diana noticed an odd event that (according to The T.A.R.D.I.S) was anomalous to previous historical records. 

A sweeping blackout of unknown origin in 2013 Paris that lasted over two days, seemed to be of no real significance, until they dug deeper. "That's interesting," Diana noted to River, as the light from the computer screen cast shadows across her face,"because usually when something like this happens you see an increase in things like violence or destruction of property, but in this case there's nothing of that sort. It's almost strangely  _ uneventful.  _ There was, however, a record of police responding to the backup security alarm being triggered at the Louvre." 

"Good lord, he just can't help himself," River shook her head, fighting back laughter. "I mean, does anyone really  _ need  _ to be that ostentatious? They're supposed to be flying under the radar, so they decided to steal from one of the highest profile museums in the world?" Diana glanced over her shoulder at the other woman, a smirk on her lips, "That's where it gets interesting, though. According to the newspaper article I pulled from that time, the curator claimed that nothing was stolen. They even reviewed the contents of the upper gallery and found the collections to be intact. However, they never reviewed the contents of the lower levels, and the T.A.R.D.I.S is indicating that while none of the more valuable items from the Louvre's basement ever found their way into the hands of private collectors in the past, that is no longer the case." River moved to stand beside her, in front of the screen, reviewing the information intently with her own eyes. "The curator is involved, somehow? I've frequented a lot of museums in my day. Even worked at a few. The way historical artifacts change hands...well, sometimes it isn't exactly legal. Or it could just be a straightforward robbery. That is always possible."

Diana revisited the pattern of the energy signature for that date and time. While they had easily tracked River to Luthor's penthouse when this all began, that trail was fresh, and therefore the path more precise. This was older, and it was already in the process of decay. It definitely indicated the location to be Paris, but did this mean Savage was definitively involved in the crime? If not, it was a hell of a coincidence. "The curator may be implicated, somehow, or he might just be trying to keep his job," Diana informed her. "There's tens of millions of dollars worth of art down there that could have been stolen. Just what was reclaimed from the Nazis during the end of World War II is worth a small fortune. The loss of that would be hard to explain. Certainly the publicity would be unfavorable. But…I can't help but feel like Savage is somehow part of this. I just haven't figured out how or why, yet."

River crossed her arms against her chest and exhaled deeply, "Wealth? Taking back the treasures of the Third Reich for sentimental reasons?" Diana reached forward and touched the screen to pull up a map of the museum from that time period, zooming in on the lower level. "Maybe… He would need that kind of money to rise to a position of prominence, as you said earlier." River regarded her words and the crease of her brown carefully. Diana may have been beyond beautiful, but her intelligence and skill at deduction rivaled Batman and even The Doctor, himself. "You don't think that's what's going on here, though. Do you?" Diana's eyes met River's and for a brief second, she saw the woman within staring back. Not The Doctor's wife, or the seductive assassin, but a bright and resourceful woman who was worthy of her respect. Whether she was worthy of her trust, however, remained to be seen. 

"You are familiar with museums throughout history. Well, so am I." Diana replied. "There are many strange and wondrous things locked away in the secret stores of places like the Louvre. My concern is regarding whether Savage chose this location due to its vast wealth or some other reason, entirely." River seemed to quietly consider the notion, and her expression grew very serious,"What could he be searching for? The book, perhaps? Or some other kind of weapon…" Diana's eyes returned to the details of the blueprint but no matter how much she stared, the mysteries she sought did not reveal themselves.

They were missing something that, just like Savage, was hiding in plain sight. It felt like there was important information that they needed to investigate further. To not pursue that avenue risked leaving unknown factors, and subsequently their victory, to chance. In Diana's mind, this was simply unacceptable. "The curator would know, for sure," Diana said almost to herself, and then the realization hit her like a ton of bricks. "River...do you still have your vortex manipulator?" It took a second, but River's smile, when she finally understood where Diana's reasoning was headed, was electric. "As a matter of fact, I  _ do.  _ Why don't we go and ask him, ourselves."

**************************

Paris was beautiful. Diana had always thought so. In all the years she lived in her little apartment on the bank of the Seine, she could not recall a time its loveliness didn't overshadow anything that might be troubling her. Under the glowing city lights, it was difficult to focus on the negative. Her only regret, during those years, was not having someone to share it with. 

Diana remembered many nights in her past, returning home from League missions. Often, her head would swim with thoughts regarding something that Bruce said or did that led her to believe he might want to take things between them further, only for him to become flustered and backpedal, at the last moment. The first time this phenomenon occurred, Diana thought it charming, but as she noticed something of a pattern emerging in their interactions, the charm soon faded. For someone like Diana, who was forthcoming with her emotions, Bruce's behavior eventually became both confusing and vexing. She was certain he reciprocated her feelings, but they had done the same dance for so long that Diana sometimes wondered if their relationship would ever move past attraction and flirtation to something more. 

In the end, everything between them fell into place so succinctly that Diana came to believe her union with Bruce, while initially fraught with obstacles in the days of its inception, might exist by fate's design. She was so certain, in fact, that she agreed to leave Paris and make a home with Bruce in Gotham without so much of a second thought. And while Diana did not regret one step of the journey that brought her to the present day (which she happened to be spending in her personal future), she only wished that Bruce could be with her now, in the place she so deeply loved. 

Presently, however, Bruce was somewhere else in space and time. When Diana initially presented the information that she and River discovered to The Doctor, he was excited about what they discovered, as it seemed to bring them one step closer to completing the mission. Their time was growing short and with it, he reminded them, reality became more strained. Furthermore, it was also possible that the strongest energy signal, which was not remotely in France, might be Savage's current location. This left them to ponder the most efficient course of action to follow, under the circumstances.

Ultimately, it was decided that the best way to allocate their resources was to split into teams. As The Doctor's present regeneration was unknown to Savage, he and Clara could operate discreetly and would investigate the most promising lead, reporting back with any information. Constantine, wanting only a quiet place to fully unlock the potential of Hecate's Grimoire, suggested his house in Newcastle as a home base of sorts. "Listen, mate, it's not that your ship isn't amazing, but I have a number of items back home that would make it a hell of a lot easier to decipher this book. Besides, after figuring out to some degree what I'm working with, I think it's worth mentioning that screwing around with primordial life magic in a time vessel may be a monumentally _ bad idea _ ." 

Jack, having spent a portion of his own history in France, and being well versed with the time that most of the art in question originated from, was to accompany Diana and River to Paris. Bruce, despite his slight protest, could not wholeheartedly disagree with the suggestion that he be the one to work with Constantine; of all the team, besides the warlock, he had the most experience with magic, having been exposed to it during a close friendship to both Zatanna and her father, as well as a number of other practitioners, over the years. It didn't mean he had to be happy about the division of labor, however, despite the logistics. At least, he'd expressed as much to Diana privately in their brief time together, before the team dispersed. 

"England is a lovely place, Bruce. I'm sure your time there will be far more pleasant than you think," Diana said, resisting her initial urge to tease him, a bit. Bruce and John respected each other, but they sometimes didn't see eye to eye. She couldn't help but think, in that moment, that The Doctor's decision to pair them up reminded her of the odd couple comedies one sometimes saw on television, only it was highly doubtful that any type of typical hilarity would ensue from the partnership. 

Bruce's posture was stiff as he leaned a shoulder against a nearby wall,"I'm more concerned with the investigation in Paris than having to babysit Constantine. I know that both you and River are uniquely specialized in this area but after what happened in New York… I don't entirely trust her, to be honest. I don't know if I ever will." With that sentiment, Diana could not argue. She shuddered to imagine what their fates might have been without the aid of The Doctor and the healing arts of her people. And though Diana had come to like River, despite her past choices, the fact that she had left them for dead on a rooftop was a considerable impediment to any prospective friendship. "I know," she said softly, stepping closer to him in the silence of the hallway. Those two words seemed to hang in the air as she rested her palm over the armored bat symbol that protected the heart that had come to love her well. For a moment Bruce did not react at all, until a gloved hand came to rest atop hers, seeming to signal that although things were not perfect between them at that moment, some things did not change. Love, Diana hoped, would always endure, no matter the obstacles. 

Perhaps, in a more peaceful time, it would have been possible to linger in a quiet hallway, enjoying the company of the man she loved. Certainly it would have been preferable to the task ahead. But it wasn't long before Jack was calling for her and stating their intentions to move out with haste. The teams appeared to be heading to the wardrobe for appropriate attire, and then mobilizing to their predetermined locations.

Diana knew they must move with haste, and yet she also could not leave this way, with so much left unsaid. Without further thought, she leaned forward and pulled Bruce in for a kiss. She felt his body momentarily tense with surprise before his lips parted for her. His hands moved to her waist, pressing her body flush against his as if he couldn't possibly get close enough. This action was a stark contrast to the night before, and ignited a spark of hope in Diana that no passing disagreement could diminish the passion they shared.

By the second time Diana's name was called, it was difficult to pull herself away, to say the least. "I'm on my way!" she almost yelled down the hallway, straightening her armor and smoothing her hair to disguise her potentially disheveled appearance. Bruce seemed perfectly put together, on the other hand. Only the sound of his racing heart gave any indication of Bruce's current state of arousal, and as the rest of the team did not share Diana's heightened senses, they would be none the wiser. "We should go," she said, and turned to walk towards the others. She didn't check to see if Bruce was behind her, but his heavy foot falls echoed unmistakably in the silence of the hallway. 

It wasn't long before each of them was more aptly dressed for their respective time periods and prepared for their destinations. Bruce's eyes met hers as Diana placed her hand on River's arm beside Jack's and prepared for her companion to type the coordinates into the vortex manipulator. Before they dematerialized, Bruce whispered something only Diana could hear. The last sound to reach her ears before they entered the void were the words "be careful." It sounded far more like a plea than a command.

Diana was pleasantly surprised to find their arrival in Paris to be uneventful, however. As they walked across the city she talked about her years there, and Jack happily chatted back, reminiscing about his own experiences in the city of lights, in the time after the war. She pointed out some of her favorite places to River, as well, and insisted they stop for ice cream along their way at the vendor she most frequented while living there.

"You seem to love it here," River commented from her seat beside Diana on a park bench. "Why on Earth did you ever decide to leave?" Diana licked at her cone thoughtfully as she watched Jack strike up a conversation with a young woman, nearby. He really was a terrible flirt. "I suppose you could say an opportunity came my way that I couldn't refuse. It certainly wasn't the first time that the fates willed me to be far from the place I called home and perhaps it won't be the last." River popped a spoonful of chocolate ice cream into her mouth, her eyes growing wide at the deeper meaning behind Diana's words,"Oh my...so it  _ was  _ because of a man. I suspected as much. Not judging, of course. I think I would follow The Doctor into Hell if he asked me to. Where did you follow yours to, if you don't mind my asking?" Diana was silent for a second as she measured how much information might be safe to disclose about her private life. "Gotham City," she finally replied, glancing sideways to see the other woman's face scrunched up. River was smiling, but she also looked as if she had smelled something unpleasant. "Gotham City? Oh dear, I think I would rather prefer Hell…" 

They were both laughing at the point of tears when Jack arrived a few moments later, asking if they thought it might be a good idea to get a hotel room for the night and then informing them both that he'd just made a friend. River sighed and rolled her eyes as she stood, depositing her now empty plastic cup and spoon into the trash can nearby. "Thanks for the ice cream," she said to Diana, "but we should probably continue on our way." Diana rose from her seat, as well, wiping her face and hands with a napkin. "You're welcome. And you're right. We should move on. The house isn't far."

Diana began to walk as River kept pace beside her and Jack trailed behind, wearing a dejected expression. They moved further from the tourist spots amidst the heart of the city. Quiet residential streets and quaint little houses became more prevalent parts of the landscape. The information they'd gathered indicated the curator to be an older man who resided with his wife in just such a neighborhood. Hopefully, a visit to his home would not result in a door being slammed in their faces, and would yield the information they sought.

They turned left down a narrow lane lined with bright flowering bushes. A nondescript stone cottage, flanked by two large trees, stood at the end of it. The low iron gate separating the property from the cobblestone road gave way easily to allow them entry, as their party approached the front door. It was Diana who knocked, after being unable to find a modern doorbell anywhere in sight.

The sound of several locks being undone were audible before the door swung open, revealing not the man they sought but a woman who was far too young to be the curator's wife. "Can I help you?" She asked through the crack in the door, her eyes narrowed at the sight of their party. In the light of day Diana could now see that she had not released every lock, and a single chain prevented the door from opening wider. Should they prove untrustworthy, it appeared the woman inside was prepared to bar their entry. 

"Good afternoon," River replied in what appeared to be perfect French, no doubt due to The T.A.R.D.I.S's universal translator. "I'm Agent Smith with The Unified National Intelligence Taskforce, and these are my colleagues. We're investigating a disturbance at the Louvre that occurred several weeks ago, and were hoping to interview Michel Bonhomme. Our records indicated that this was where he resides, and due to the sensitivity of the subject matter, we thought he would prefer not to be interviewed at his place of work." 

The young woman looked them up and down carefully. "Do you have some kind of identification or something?" River smiled, and produced a small black leather wallet which (Diana assumed) opened to reveal the proper credentials on psychic paper. She wondered for a moment what the young woman saw since, to her eyes, the slip was essentially blank. When the door slammed shut, it seemed as if their journey had found its end. Then, the sound of the last chain being undone became audible, and the door swung open.

"Come in," she instructed, and they complied. From a closer vantage, the young woman was slightly older than she initially appeared. Diana estimated that she was close to thirty, with shiny auburn hair that was just beginning to gray. She motioned with her hand to an old sitting room, and they followed her inside. "I'm sorry for that, but it is difficult to trust people these days. Please, sit. I will go and wake my mother. She's laying down but I know she will want to speak with you." Diana watched as the young woman pulled her cardigan around her more tightly before turning to exit the room. "I'm sorry, miss…" Diana began, slightly confused. "Jillian," she replied. Diana nodded, smiling warmly despite the unsettled feeling that was beginning to grow within her. Because although her instincts informed her they were not in danger, she was certain something was not quite right. "Jillian… It's very nice to meet you, Jillian and thank you for allowing us in your home. We appreciate your offer to fetch your mother, but it is Mr. Bonhomme that we need to speak with, if you don't mind." 

To Diana's surprise, Jillian's expression distorted, as if suddenly pained. "My father is dead. He was killed on his way home from work last week. The police said it looked like a mugging gone wrong, but I don't know. They seemed more focused on asking other questions...like whether my father mentioned anything about art that went missing from the museum. That's why you're here too, isn't it?" River crossed her legs in her chair, her eyes kind and full of sympathy as she addressed the young woman, "It is. I'm sorry to have come at such an awful time, and for your loss. We had no idea." Jillian lingered in the doorway, as if she was unsure whether to remain in that spot or complete her originally intended task. "Tell me, Madame," she said, addressing River directly, "is there art that is worth more than a man's life? Something so valuable in that museum that someone would kill for it?" When she was met with only stunned expressions, the young woman chuckled softly. It was a bitter sound. "Perhaps  _ that _ should be the focus of your investigation," she said, and disappeared without another word down the darkening hallway, leaving them in silence.

  
  



End file.
